Dabbling in Drabbles
by SuprSingr
Summary: A series of random drabbles I wrote because I was bored. Mainly AxH, but eh, I might branch out a little. Who knows? It's a rainbow of randomness! Update: "First Date"
1. Power

**A/N: **I don't know… it just seems like EVERYONE has a series of drabbles, and I don't, so… What the heck? I can write drabbles all day. It's easy. XD So yeah. This could have drabbles from anything – my stories, other peoples' stories, random AUs, TPJ, HH, LTBH, other initials for stories you probably have to think real hard to remember what stand for… Yeah, just a lot of random crap. XD Enjoy… or at least, you know, try to anyway. xD

**Disclaimer: **I don't own nothing,' _mayne_…

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**Dabbling in Drabbles  
**

**Power**

Arnold would never admit it. But he loved the power he held over her.

He loved how all he had to do was look at her and wink and she'd blush and look away. He loved how all he had to do was touch her arm and she'd melt completely against her will. He loved how he could give her a half-lidded look and she wouldn't be able to look away.

Ever since he found out he had this power over her, he couldn't help but abuse it as much as possible. Ever since the April Fool's Dance it had become almost an uncontrollable compulsion. Whipping her around roughly and holding her close and feeling her heart pound so hard against him. It was the most amazing thing he'd ever discovered. He was amazed he'd never seen it before.

It wasn't a selfish or sadistic pleasure or anything of the sort. There was just something very satisfying about having that effect on her. He'd had girls have crushes on him before, but he'd never cared. He'd been completely listless when Lila had liked him, and when Siobhan had admitted to fancying him he'd straight up told her no and hadn't even talked to her again since. But Helga… there was something almost… exhilarating about the idea her liking him…

Yes, he loved having her love him, he loved making goosebumps appear on her, making her normally scowling eyes go wider and bluer than he'd ever seen them, reducing one of PS118's toughest bullies to a puddle of romantic mush. It was the most satisfying feeling ever and he was SO glad she'd finally told him the truth… slightly against her will or not.

And as for the reason his heart pounded, his hands went slick with sweat, his spine tingled, and electricity shot through him whenever he got to see once again that she was really, truly all his… well, that was something he'd rather not think about… because…

The last thing he ever wanted to discover next was that she might actually have some power over _him_, too…

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**A/N:** Eh, a little lengthy for a drabble, but it's definitely too short to be called a full-blown One-Shot. Or at least in my book anyway. Perhaps a ficlet? Ah, screw it. I say it's a drabble and that is that.

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	2. A Definite No

**Dabbling in Drabbles  
**

**A Definite No**

_No_.

Him? Marrying Helga G. Pataki? Helga the Horrible? Helga his Personal Tormentor?

_No_.

Of all the people for that marriage predictor to come to… and 110 times in a row! WHY oh _WHY_ did fate hate him so?

The idea wasn't even just repulsive. It was… ridiculous! Disgusting! The most hilariously STUPID idea that had ever been presented to him! Why, if Helga had heard, she'd probably have full on upchucked! Yes, he thought near hysterically, she would have just completely barfed up her guts, just like he was suddenly feeling like doing… Oh, he was sick. He felt like he'd been hit in the stomach.

He was utterly against it. Just… NO! Haha, him and Helga? PFFT! As if that would ever happen! Did he mention _no_? Because, haha, he meant it!

_NO_!

He woke up in a start, breathing heavily for possibly the eighth time tonight. Oh, no, it just couldn't be… He'd told Gerald no at least fifty times on the way back home, chanted "I'm not going to marry Helga" the entire way feverishly, and growled whenever anyone asked him how he was doing. Gerald had looked just plain freaked out by the entire thing. Of course he would have expected his best friend to be a bit repulsed by it, but he'd been acting like a total nutcase ever since he'd been told he was to be wed to Helga G. Pataki.

A-And for good reason of course! HAHAHAHAHAHA!

Because, ugh, come on! Helga and him? Together? Married? In l-lo… l-l-lov… that word! PFFT, of course not! Just… just stupid! So stupid! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

'_So why is your heart racing?_' that stupid voice at the back of his head he always ignored whispered.

NO! It wasn't racing! It was just all that overwhelming repulsion from his dream coursing through him of course! He fell back onto the bed, eyes wide and despairing.

'_So why are you so drenched in sweat?_' it whispered again.

HA! The dream again, of course! Doi-DUH! YES! DUH! MUCH BETTER THAN THAT OTHER THING HE ALMOST THOUGHT! HAHAHAHAHAHA!

'_Well then why are you smiling?_'

SMILING? WHAT? He frowned as hard as he could possibly manage, closing his eyes. He was just smiling because of how WRONG he knew that voice was, of course! Trying to imply such idiotically stupid… stupid things! HAHA! OF COURSE!

'_Fine then, Smart guy… Why are you acting like a total lunatic? Why can't you just dismiss it as rubbish and leave it at that? Why are you SO hung up on the idea? If you really don't think it was possible for the two of you to fall in love and get married, then why are you laying here at three AM in the morning, trying to convince yourself that you could never love Helga?_'

BECAUSE… because… 'cause…

He huffed out in defeat, pulling his blanket up over his head. "Shut up, Subconscious."

'_I'm just saying_…'


	3. Suspicion

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Suspicion**

Arnold Shortman was undoubtedly his best friend in the world. Ever since preschool, they'd been as tight as two kids could be with each other, and Gerald knew that they would probably stay that way for the rest of their lives.

And as Arnold's best friend, they hung out together constantly, had sleepovers, laughed and hung out together like any best friends would. Nobody knew Arnold better than Gerald.

Which was probably why he was the only one in the entire fourth grade who ever suspected anything funny with him.

Yeah, there was always something off about Arnold. He was a very easygoing, casual, cool guy normally, but it just always seemed like he was hiding something… Maybe even from himself included. He wasn't sure why, but sometimes, on certain days, Arnold would get kind of… funny.

Not funny in a bad way, Gerald thought, but just… he'd do something, or say something, or get obsessed with something sometimes… that made absolutely no sense.

Sometimes when they'd be walking through the shopping center, he'd stop and stare at the pink aisle, and Gerald would have to drag him away. And Arnold would apologize and say he wasn't sure what had come over him.

But that wasn't even the most suspicious thing he did.

The most suspicious was when Arnold… would have one of _those_ days, as Gerald called them. Like when Helga didn't bully him for a whole day, Gerald couldn't get him to think about anything BUT that. He kept saying he should go check and see if she was okay or something, and Gerald had to keep yelling at him that it was a dumb idea and that he should be HAPPY his bully had given up. But that hadn't stopped him from asking her anyway, and then when Gerald had run into him again that day, he was smiling, but still all he could talk about was how Helga seemed totally listless and he was worried. It was the most annoying thing ever and Gerald had just wanted to shake him and tell him to SHUT UP already. And then when Helga started bullying him again, he went back to normal. It was so weird.

And then there was that time when Helga and Phoebe had gotten into that fight and split up, and THEN all Arnold could do was worry and then be happy when she found someone new, and then be worried again when that didn't work out, and then he'd even gone and ASKED her how it was going, and Gerald had slapped his forehead when he'd gotten predictably yelled at, just like he'd warned him would happen.

And then of course there were the many times when she was doing something wrong, and Arnold wouldn't stop talking about that and going over to talk to her to try to make her do the right thing. WHY he was so concerned about whether the jerk that hated him was doing the right thing or not was beyond him. But…

Gerald hated to think it, but Arnold was just plain _obsessed_ with his bully. Gerald wasn't sure why, but he had his suspicions…

After all, you can't hide ANYTHING from your best friend.

And that was why, on November 17, when he caught the two of them kissing in the middle of the jungle, he just smiled and walked away.


	4. Evil

**A/N: **Lol, MAN this is easy. Glad you guys are enjoying this, because there's tons more to come!

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**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Evil**

Helga Pataki was an evil genius… and she knew that without a doubt.

She'd perfected her evil laugh, concocted evil schemes, and her smirk was almost always present.

She liked being evil. She liked having the one up on people. She liked the evil laughter and evil schemes and winning no matter the costs.

But sometimes, she'd get that feeling in the pit of her stomach. That guilty feeling, and no matter HOW much she tried to force it down and win over it, it was always too strong for her and she'd end up doing the right thing. She'd apologize (even though she was horrible at it), she'd hug people, she'd do anything to set things right. She'd go the extra mile to make things right in the end, no matter what it meant for herself. And it felt good. Even if she didn't get the trophy at the end of it all.

Which was exactly why, no matter what she did, no matter how much she'd like to believe otherwise, she was a good person. An especially good person, since she was strong enough to admit to being wrong at the end of the day, an ability not too many people possessed. And being someone with as much iron-willed Pataki pride as Helga G. Pataki, her doing the right thing was truly a feat, and proved without a shadow of a doubt that there was something amazing inside her, something that shone much brighter than any supposed 'evil' in her.

And as Helga's back-up conscience, Arnold just had to smile in knowing this. In knowing that the goodness inside her was much stronger than the evil she showed on a daily basis, which he knew was really saying something…


	5. Forever

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Forever**

He'd been talking to her on the phone for the last three hours, laughing and smiling and secretly longing.

Just getting over laughing over another one of her funny jokes, Arnold chuckled and sighed, still smiling. "Oh, Helga, what happened to us…?"

They'd been broken up for a little over four years now, only just recently starting to reconnect, and he honestly couldn't remember why they'd broken up. Especially not now, on the phone with her like this; he'd never felt so content.

He heard her sigh on the other end, but it sounded a bit more forlorn than his was. "You… moved, Arnold. It wouldn't have worked anyway."

"I don't know, Helga…" Arnold said quietly, twisting some bamboo around in his hand as he laid on his bed, in the hut the Green-Eyes had built for him and his parents to live in. "It just seems kinda stupid now. We used to say forever, you know…"

The other end of the line was quiet for a few moments, before he heard her say simply, "Forever was cut short, Football Head."

Their conversation went on for a few more minutes, but soon they both accepted that after drifting over such a serious topic they just couldn't talk anymore, it was too forced, and they hung up.

And now as Arnold laid on his bed, twisting the little bamboo box over and over in his hand, and looking at the plane ticket he'd bought only a few days ago, he just popped the box open, looked at the ring, and smiled. "Not for long, Helga, not for long…"


	6. In My Arms

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**In My Arms**

Helga Pataki was the strongest, bravest person he knew. But he knew that sometimes she could be a bit cocky in her bravery, and she'd get startled and… when THAT happened…

She'd jump into his arms, and she'd be trembling and clinging to him and screaming. His knees would quake for some reason, but otherwise he didn't have any trouble holding her. She was surprisingly light. Sometimes at the back of his head, he'd worry whether or not she was eating right.

But he'd hold her for as long as she needed, he didn't have a problem with it. She was scared, and he could never turn away a damsel in distress… even if that damsel was Helga G. Pataki… especially if that damsel was Helga G. Pataki…

He didn't know why, but the idea that Helga sometimes needed comfort and protection made him smile. The idea that Helga, the toughest and most hardcore bully in all of the fourth grade, needing HIM to comfort her… It… was a nice idea, really.

Of course, he had no doubt she could take care of herself, but still… Her, shaking and trembling in his arms, silently begging for comfort, muttering little sounds of alarm and fright, and her arms clinging tightly around his head… It made his heart tremble a bit itself.

Yes, definitely… He had NO problem with holding Helga. She could jump into his arms any time she needed.

After all… what guy would turn down having a tall, blonde-haired, blue-eyed bombshell in his arms?

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**A/N:** Okay, just to clarify before anyone makes any comments, bombshell in this fic is defined "One that is sensationally shocking, surprising, or amazing." XD So shut up.

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	7. As a Brother

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

_**The Pickle Jar**_

_**Alternate Reality  
**_

_**As a Brother**_

After twelve years of pining, he'd finally started coming out of his shell. He'd talked to more people, smiled more, and having his parents back had really given him more confidence in himself.

It didn't take long for her to start talking to him more, and soon enough they'd become very good friends. They talked all the time, laughed, and hung out nearly everyday. Arnold didn't think it was possible for him to love her more, but she just continued to be more and more amazing. Things were finally starting to look up, and he was almost sure she was starting to fall for him.

And on this lovely day, as they walked along the docks near the beach, watching the sunset, Helga hugged him at random and laid her head on his shoulder. His breath catching in his throat, he somehow managed to hug her back and his mind raced, along with his heart.

"Oh, Arnold… I love you." She giggled, hugging him tighter, as if she didn't ever want to let go.

His heart stopped at that very moment, and he couldn't breathe. "Y-You-"

She interrupted him, smiling with her eyes closed. "I'm so glad we were able to get past that old crush you had on me. I feel so much happier now that I can be around you and not worry about that anymore. You're like a brother to me, and I love you for that…"

And now, as they continued their walk with her head on his shoulder, him guiding her along with an arm around her back, she didn't even notice the utterly heartbroken expression on his face, as the sun went down completely and replaced the rainbow of colors in the sky with the dark of night, the lights of the city blocking the stars from coming through to comfort him…

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**A/N: **Hmmm… depressing? Very. XD I got this idea while reading through some Emma fanfiction, so it's nice to get this scene out of my head, not so nice for you guys to read. Helga's such a meanie here and she doesn't even realize it. xD I'll probably do a follow-up drabble of this to really put this idea to rest. After all, I can't just end stuff like this on a note as sad as THAT. Even if it's just an AU of "The Pickle Jar," zeh shall have a happy ending! I swear it on the moth-I-just-killed's grave! XD So no worries.

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	8. Sorry

**A/N: **Here's the conclusion of "As a Brother." :D Told ya I couldn't just leave it at that. xD

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**Dabbling in Drabbles**

_**The Pickle Jar**_

_**Alternate Reality**_

_**Sorry**_

"You could always get a girlfriend. That would help you get over her."

"I already tried that when I was nine, Gerald. Didn't work at all. It just made me miserable that she wasn't Helga. I should just… just…"

"All right, Shortman, here's what you do: you grow a beard, get colored contacts to cover up your Shortman green eyes (they're a dead giveaway), buy some new clothes, and move to Afpakastan!"

"Grandpa, that's not even a country. Besides, I'm only fifteen."

"Well of course it's not a country, Arnold. It's a continent!"

"Whatever you say, Grandpa…" A sigh was heard, sounding depressed, and he didn't even have the strength to correct his grandpa.

"Well," Arnold's dad sounded, "I'm with Gerald on this one. Just because it didn't work all that time ago doesn't mean it couldn't work now. Maybe that other girl just wasn't the right one? There's plenty of other girls. There must be someone other than Helga you find attractive."

"Not really…"

"Have you ever looked?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Then it's settled! You'll get an amazing girlfriend and she'll make you forget ALL about old Helga. Now who's up for some raspberry tarts?" his grandpa's voice came, and she heard footsteps coming towards the door.

"Whatever…"

Helga quickly ran to the front door and went outside, quietly shutting the door. Assured that no one had seen her, she stumbled down the steps then and practically fell into sitting on the final step of his stoop. She hadn't meant to eavesdrop, his grandma had just let her in, told her they were in the living room, and she'd walked in right when Arnold said he was still in love with her. And to think that only last night she'd told him she thought of him as a brother. Good God, she could just hit herself now. How she must have made him feel… And now, after hearing their conversation, about how he was just going to get a girlfriend and forget about her, she felt sick…

She heard the door open behind her then and she shot up, spinning around in alarm, and came face to face with Arnold. He blinked, his eyes widening. He was still in the process of putting on his jacket, and he shut the door when he saw her. "Helga? What are you doing h-"

She cut him off by throwing her arms around him, crushing him back against the door and pressing her lips to his. Even she didn't know what had just come over her. It was totally impulsive, and almost against her will, but now with her lips on his for the first time ever, she couldn't help but close her eyes and kiss him harder.

Arnold just stumbled back more and eventually just fell to the ground, his knees too weak to keep him up. She fell with him, her lips still on his, and he thought he was going to pass out from the electric pleasure pulsing through him.

She pulled back before he could respond to the kiss and said the first thing that came to mind, the only thing she could possibly think of in a time like this, "I'm sorry I took so long…"

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**A/N**: Lol, I'm sure you wanted to see what Arnold was gonna say, but that's a TPJ secret reveal. xD So eat pants… for now. ;)

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	9. Defective Cheese

**A/N:** Lol, okay, this was MEANT to be part of a One-Shot series of drabbles that I wrote like a SUPER long time ago, but I could never think up a third drabble for it, so I'm just gonna post these here instead. XD Whatever. The One-Shot was gonna be called "Clueless," so these two are part of that series. There. Might add. *Shrugs* And also, eight updates for one story in one night FTW!

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**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Defective Cheese  
**

On the day of the Cheese Festival, Arnold, bored and waiting for Gerald to get out of the bathroom, took out his slice of swiss and stared at it a moment, remembering that one tradition.

What was it again? Spin around three times, look through the hole, and you'd see your true love?

Eh. Like he really believed that... but still...

What could trying it out hurt?

He stepped away from the wall he was leaning against, held the cheese up to his face, and spun around three times. After spinning around so fast like that, his eye sight had become a bit hazy, and he stumbled only slightly before he managed to gain his bearings. His eye sight came into focus, and his eyes peaked through the hole, coming to see Helga standing way across the festival, looking pretty bored at the moment as she was just standing in some line for the bumper cars with her arms crossed over her chest.

His eyes widened, his heart raced, and his grip on the piece of swiss tightened. He blinked very slowly...

And then...

He threw the cheese over his shoulder with a shrug, a blank look on his face. "Eh, must be defective."


	10. Beach Bullies

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Beach Bullies  
**

Arnold laid on his beach towel out on the beach, his hands behind his head as he stared up at the clouds above with daydreamy eyes.

For some strange reason then, he felt the compulsion to look up. He did so, and his breath caught in his throat at what he came to see.

Helga was standing out in the shore, her hair dripping wet and hanging down, air drying it would appear. She stared out at the islands far off with a small smile on her face, the sun glistening off of her hair and reflecting in her bright blue eyes, making it appear that she was actually glowing.

His face instantly went hot to the touch. He blinked very slowly...

After several seconds of gawking, he finally realized his face was practically burning, and he brought one of his hands up to touch his cheek. It was definitely very warm. "Hmmm..." He touched at his pink face, feeling the warmth all over. "I didn't think it was THAT hot out. Oh well." He stood up and started picking up his towel, not even giving the fact that his heart was beating way faster than it should be a second thought, and making a mental note to buy more sunscreen.


	11. A Muffin for Your Thoughts

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**A Muffin for Your Thoughts**

She was just sitting there, looking out over all the other kids and scowling, as usual. Like a hungry mountain lion stalking it's prey, waiting for the right moment to strike. He didn't have to look up to know he was the person she was scowling at the most, with that usual steady blue gaze of false hatred. It made him feel a bit uncomfortable, but he was used to it enough by now that it was fairly easily ignored. As usual, as he ate one of the many muffins leftover from his lunch (raspberry, naturally, as his grandpa had seen them cooling on the windowsill in the morning and decided it would be a good idea to stuff them all in his lunch box before his grandma deemed it time to force them at him instead), his thoughts were on her as well.

What was she thinking about? Why was she staring at him? Why was she always so angry? These questions buzzed through his mind as he chewed thoughtfully on the muffin, sitting on the picnic tables not too far away from her.

Soon enough, he sighed and decided he'd had enough and stood up with his lunch box and walked over to where she was sitting on the monkey bars. He climbed up and sat next to her, ignoring the surprised look on her face as he offered her a fresh muffin from his lunch box. "Muffin for your thoughts?"

She just stared at the muffin suspiciously, as if wondering if he'd poisoned it or something. He sighed and just forced the muffin into her hand and took another bite of his own, swinging his legs a bit with his lunch box in his lap.

She eyed him a moment before finally seeming to give in and taking a bite of the muffin. She talked with her mouth full, which he didn't mind for whatever reason, "Just thinking about how much I hate you…" He looked over at her to see that she was just eyeing her muffin with an almost grateful and affectionate look, and then shot a glance back over at him as she finished with, "And how sometimes I can't quite figure out why."

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**A/N: **Blame Azure129 for this one. She had the nerve of signing one of her reviews to me as Muffins. XD

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	12. The Bully and the Victim

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**The Bully and the Victim**

For seven years he had been the victim in their relationship. She would trip him, shoot spit wads at him, call him names, and abuse him. And he'd take it. He never had any choice, really.

She hated him, and he knew it. For a while it had stung and bothered him, the idea of someone hating him (and her especially), but after a while he started to get used to it. It became a cliché to him. She'd yell at him, scream, threaten him, and he wouldn't care. He could look her straight in the eye, roll his eyes, and walk away without a problem. She never hit him, she never would. Her threats were empty, and he knew they were. He wasn't the least bit afraid of her. He hadn't been for a long time. Her saying she hated him meant nothing. It was like listening to the wind blow, the beat of your own heart, the grass crumpling under your feet. You just heard it SO much that you didn't even notice it anymore.

But despite this, she'd always find ways to annoy him, and new ways to torture him. She'd shoot an extra hundred spitballs at him, pull a few pranks, spread a rumor or two about how he'd married a tree. She was competitive, and it almost felt like a game sometimes. Some sick game she liked to play. She always had a smug look in her eye, and that smirk on her face, because she KNEW she was winning. And he would let her.

Because she would always be his bully, and he would always be her victim.

But one day, that all changed…

One cold, damp day, she'd confessed to everything. Mad love, ever since she first saw him, shrines, poetry, stalking, desperation. And suddenly, she wasn't so much the bully anymore. She'd thrown all the cards she always had in her hands straight in his face, handed over every last trick she'd ever had in her book, told him the secret behind every one of her magic tricks. And suddenly, she didn't have any power anymore.

He was holding every card, every piece of loaded dice, every cheat in the book. He could stomp her down if he wanted. He could kill her. He could get the ultimate revenge. He could… play the bully for a while… torment HER with it for a little bit… and see how SHE liked it… Heck, he could make her his SLAVE if he wanted to. So many options were being presented before him now, and there was no way he could lose this. He could use Helga's biggest secret against her, like the world's most powerful cheat code, and just advance to level 108 and win the game fair and square and…

He hated that.

He hated having this power, he hated knowing how badly he could hurt her, he HATED and LOATHED and DESPISED how easily he could crush her. He didn't want that. Not at all. If Helga had confessed such feelings to any other boy, though, he KNEW they would have done all of that. Sid would have made her his slave, Gerald would have laughed at her every time he saw her, Harold would have rejected her in a heartbeat and spread her secret to every boy or girl that would listen. But Arnold would never do that to her. He actually cared about her. He didn't know why, but he did. Just the idea of hurting her hurt him, too. This wasn't just HER secret anymore… it was theirs. Which was exactly why he'd let her take it all back, let her pretend things were back to normal, and kept everything the way it was before for the time being. She could still be his bully, and he could still be her victim…

And for now, he was at least happy for that.


	13. In a Hurry for Love

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**In a Hurry for Love**

As they were running, they both stopped and hid up against a tree in some bushes, both panting loudly and trying to conceal it behind their hands. Sweat was gushing down their faces, their normally gravity-defying hair was drooped down, their clothes were torn, little scratches covered their bodies, and not to mention the _dirt_. But neither of them cared in the least about their appearance at the moment because… They'd accomplished their task. They'd found his parents. They were being held by La Sombra, as Arnold had predicted. But before they could set them free or even TALK to them, they'd been run out by La Sombra's gang of river pirates. And as far as they knew, they were still being followed.

They were in a rush, but they had to rest a moment. They'd been running for what felt like hours, and they just needed a rest.

But despite the perilous situation they'd found themselves in, that big excited grin hadn't left Arnold's face for a second. And now, finally as he sat there, finally starting to regain his breath, he'd never felt so ecstatic! "We found them…" he said quietly, staring off into space with his grin.

Helga just nodded with a pant, too tired to respond.

"They're alive, Helga. Alive!" His eyes snapped to her then, his face flushed and excited. He crawled closer to her on the wet ground, not caring about his clothes in the least, and just sat there in front of her now on his knees. "I can't believe we actually found them!" he whispered happily.

Still panting, all Helga could manage was a smile in return, nodding again.

His excitement and adrenaline levels speeding at an alarming rate, Arnold suddenly had his hands on her shoulders, and it caused her to catch her breath in an instant. He was still just grinning happily, though. "And it's all because of YOU, Helga. If you hadn't figured out how to swing us across to La Sombra's lair, we might never have gotten to them!" He looked so happy and grateful as he gazed at her.

Helga's face just went even redder than it was before and she looked away shyly. "I-It really wasn't anything, Arnold…"

Arnold shook his head. "No, it was, Helga. Since we were in a hurry I didn't really get a chance to tell you, but I thought you were incredible with that vine! Where did you learn to even DO that?"

Helga's face went even REDDER and he could feel even the skin under his hands heat up. "P-Practice…." she muttered goofily.

"Well, whatever it was, Helga, I never would have found them without you!" he exclaimed in a hushed tone, squeezing her shoulders. "Thank you so much for everything, Helga! For all your help! For everything you've ever _done_! I love you!" And then, on impulse, without thought, and yet something very honest mixed in with it all, he pulled her forward completely and threw his arms around her back full, pulling her into him as his lips connected with her own. His kiss was grateful, excited, happy, sweet, and full of love and affection. It all made her shiver almost violently, despite all the heat surrounding them.

"Arnold! Helga! Come on you guys! What are you doing sitting over here in a bush when—" Gerald's voice cut off at seeing what they were doing, and the two instantly broke apart in embarrassment over getting caught like that. He just stared, his eyes bugged out.

"Uh, it's not what it looks like…" Arnold began sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Y-Yeah," Helga picked up where he left off, her face as bright red as it could go without just full-fledge exploding. "Nothing out of the ordinary going on here, heh, heh…"

"I was just trying to kill a…" he gulped, flipping his drooping blonde hair back with his hand, "a bug that landed on her mouth."

"With your lips?" Gerald asked incredulously.

"Yeah…" the two blondes answered in unison, both with equal looks of awkwardness on their faces.

Gerald just gave them one last incredulous look but, hearing the crack of a gun shot go off in the distance, he just waved them off and motioned for them to get up quick. "Whatever you say. Now come on! Quick!"

And suddenly they were running again. Gerald in front thanks to his long legs, and Helga (with the longest legs of them all) just stayed in the back with Arnold to make sure he didn't trip or anything. But as they were running, Helga just HAD to ask! "Arnold…" she said quietly in a rushed tone, continuing to run, "what the heck was all THAT about?"

Arnold just looked at her in confusion, running at a slower pace than normal for him to stay with her and make sure she didn't get hurt or trip or get left behind (also, apparently). He just blinked at her and said as if it was obvious, "Exactly what I said, Helga. Now come on!" He grabbed her hand and ran ahead to catch up with Gerald, Helga blinking in surprise before easily matching his pace as they ran through the jungle, and slowly out of sight…

* * *

**A/N: **I know this seems a bit long for a drabble, but my definition of a drabble as far as I'm concerned is anything under a thousand words. This one is just in the nine-hundreds, so it's cutting it close, but I care not! It's a drabble! BELIEVE IT!

Now for a word from our sponsors…

"Chili! Don't get chilly, get chili! It's Chilarific! *Wink*"

**_REVIEW!_**


	14. Bored

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Bored**

Arnold laid back on his red, retro couch, his eyes closed and heart barely beating. He'd been laying there… for over an _hour_ now…

He had NOTHING to do.

No, seriously. His homework was all finished, he'd already done all his chores, AND tomorrow's chores, talked to all the boarders and helped them out, eaten, played baseball with his friends, and…

It was only two in the afternoon… on a SATURDAY!

He sighed out in slight frustration, his brain fizzling. All his friends were busy with something already and couldn't be bothered with little Arnold's 'problems.' Sure, he'd helped them DOZENS of times before, but when HE needed help, oh _no_… Nobody could help _him_…

He supposed he could try daydreaming or something. That usually helped the time pass much faster. But he… well, he just… didn't '_like-like'_ anyone at the moment, he wasn't in the MOOD to think about his parents (even in some sparkling daydream about finding them and his family finally being… normal (for the most part, anyway)), and… well, really, what was left to daydream about? He had NOTHING to think about. Nothing to DO. And he was getting to the point he might just run downstairs and BEG his grandpa to give him some more chores or something.

He groaned, finally deciding enough was enough… He sat up and grabbed the phone, dialing the phone number he'd always had memorized for reasons unknown to him. And as he brought the phone up to his ear, he couldn't help but sigh at what he was doing.

Hearing the phone ring twice, the phone was suddenly picked up and he heard a voice come, "Hello?"

Arnold sighed. "Hey. It's Arnold."

"Arnold? Why the heck are you calling me?"

He shrugged. "I'm just… bored."

"Oh, how flattering."

Arnold sighed, laying back on his couch with his free arm flung over the edge of the couch and hanging limply. "You know I didn't mean it like that."

"No, Football Head, I don't think I do. Because it sounded an awful lot like, 'Helga, I'm calling you because I'm bored—because under NORMAL circumstances I would NEVER _actually_ call you. I'm just desperate!' "

Arnold groaned. "_Helga_…"

"Shut up, Football Head. I know exactly what you meant. Now if you're so desperate to talk to someone, what makes you think _I_, of all people, would be willing to talk to _you_?"

"Because you love me."

There was a moment of silence, during which Arnold shut his eyes and smiled, knowing he had her…

Finally, her voice came, "I'll be over in five minutes."

"Thank you, Helga."

And as he hung up the phone, he clasped his hands over his stomach and grinned.

He wasn't bored anymore.


	15. Kisses in the Darkness

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Kisses in the Darkness**

A small giggle erupted from a female form in the darkness and then a voice coated in amusement cut through the near pitch blackness of the room, "Arnold, what are you doing? It's too dark to be doing this now!"

"Shhh…" a light, male voice cooed, and Helga trembled as she felt him pull her closer. "I just wanted to try something a little different this time…"

She burst into giggles again as she felt him kissing all over her face, and put a hand on his chest a little to try and compensate fpr his kissing attack. "C-Criminy, Football Head, what's the occasion?"

"No occasion," he whispered, wrapping his arms firmer around her and dipping her back a little. She could just barely make out his face in the moonlight. "Why do I need an occasion to kiss my girlfriend?"

She felt his lips connect with her cheek and swooned a little, melting in his strong hold. "O-Okay, Arnold…" She giggled. "But can't we turn on the lights, please? I like being able to see your face come towards mine when we kiss."

"Oh, come on, Helga," his voice sounded a bit more mischievous and playful this time around, and his fingers massaged themselves into the skin of her back and waist, making her turn even mushier than pudding in his arms. "I think it's kinda exciting."

And as his attack of kisses resumed all over her face and head she felt herself starting to get lost in him more and murmured dreamily without a care, "Okay…" she gulped a little then, bringing her arms tighter and more assuredly around his own body. "B-But please no more teasing kisses on my face. Go for my lips, please, my love. I don't think I can take the suspense much longer…"

But his kisses on her face only continued, and after a few more seconds she finally felt her patience starting to run a tad on the thin side. "Um, Arnold, lips? Now? _Please_?" She couldn't help the slight desperate edge to her voice.

His kissing stopped and she just stayed there in his arms, shaking in anticipation… but that was changed when he admitted sheepishly, "Helga, I've been trying to kiss you on the lips ever since we came in here…"

She just blinked in the darkness, not quite sure how to respond to his statement.

A few seconds passed in silence, the two still clinging to each other… and then Arnold said…

"I think we should turn on the lights."


	16. Dude

**A/N:** 'Ello! :3 Haven't heard from lil' ol' ME in a while, now 'ave ya? xD Well, sorry, gov'nas, but my computer crashed. :P Was horrible! Flames everywhere! Spitting fire, monkeys falling from the sky, chicken bones randomly popping out of odd places that shall not be named-just UTTER chaos! So... most of my files MAY just be lost. :( That's a lot of work! *Bawls* Chapters, old one-shots, chapter stories I was working on... :( Not to mention all my personal files. The entire situation has brought me a lot of stress. *Sighs* And so, in order to cope, I decided to bestow some stress on all of you! :D See my profile for more information. There's a BIG note and it's important ALL my readers read it! (On a sidenote, my ACTUAL profile that I was gonna put back up once the destruction day passed is probably lost too... *Dies a thousand deaths*) But anywho! :D Here's a new drabble from me. Expect quite a few until the future of my computer is announced to me (on a day that I will be in all black and blotting my eyes melodramatically, of course). Enjoy! :D

**Disclaimer:** I don't own "Hey Arnold!" _but_... I DO own these characters! :D THEY'RE MINE! D:{ Zack is Arnold and Helga's son, and Jaron is Gerald and Phoebe's. :3

* * *

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Dude**

"Dude..."

"What?"

"Dude..."

"What?"

"_Dude_..."

"WHAT?"

"DUDE..."

Zack's eyes snapped up to his best friend's with a scowl, tossing his cell phone across the room at his friend. The Asian/African-American ducked easily and gave him an incredulous look, flailing his arms. "Dude! What'd you do that for? You could've killed me!"

Zack just sighed hard and began massaging his temples, his eyes still tiredly focused on his friend. "Okay, first of all, it would not have KILLED you. Maybe given you a bruise, but not KILL. And SECOND of all, I did that because you wouldn't shut up!" He let his hands drop then as his eyes flared, crossing his arms over his chest. "Now WHAT is it?"

Jaron just rolled his eyes and gave his best friend a dry look, his own arms crossed over his chest. "I was just trying to get you to LOOK at me. For Pete's sakes, you've been staring at that little screen for HOW long now? And on our pizza night, no less. Dude, I'm telling you this because you're my friend... you're completely whipped!"

"I am not whipped!" Zack defended, his anger cooling after hearing his friend's reason, but still an understandable amount of irritation in his brow. "Sophie just likes to text is all..." He looked away nonchalantly.

Jaron sighed, shaking his head. "Man, ever since you started dating that girl you just haven't been yourself. For the past twenty minutes I've been watching you sit over there mindlessly giggling at your phone. Whatever happened to bros over h-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence!" Zack snapped, standing up and pointing a finger at him with a scowl.

Jaron stared at him wide-eyed. "Dude..." He stood up now too, his friend's phone in his hand, and walked over to put his free hand on his shoulder, causing Zack's finger to drop. "Look, I'm sorry. It's just that I think this has gone far enough. You can't let girls control you like that, or they might start to lose interest. If she texts you, don't text back RIGHT that second or you might end up seeming too eager-"

"But I am eager!" Zack exclaimed in defense.

Jaron shook his head quick. "No, man! Girls don't dig that! You're chasing after her entirely too much. All I'm saying is why not let _her _do the chasing for a little while? Relationships are all about give and take aren't they? So just don't text her back this time, she won't be able to stop thinking about you, and then we can get back to our pizza night. It's a win-win. So what do ya say?" He nudged him, grinning.

Zack stared at him a long moment, his eyes wide. "Dude..."

"What?"

He grabbed the phone out of his hand and hit send. "You're an idiot."

* * *

**A/N: ***Smirks* And that, my beloved readers, is what I think of guys' dating tips.

**_REVIEW!_**


	17. Another Failed Confession

**A/N: **I, uh, lost a bet? XD It was not my idea! So please don't pin this COMPLETELY to me! xD I just couldn't resist.

* * *

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Another Failed Confession**

He didn't know what had happened. One minute he was out in the hall walking to class, and the next he was overcome with darkness. The room... or whatever, _wherever_ he was was dead quiet... yet he could feel a presence in the room with him.

Hesitating for only a second, he called out, "Hello?"

Suddenly... there was light. But instead of overwhelming the room and filling it, it cut _through_ the darkness, and shone directly down on a chair in the middle of what he realized must be a supply closet. And in that chair, was none other than Helga G. Pataki.

For a moment, he felt panicked, but then he realized she didn't look angry... or annoyed even... she just looked... determined, and yet... nervous?

Before he could say another word, she was standing up slowly in her chair, her eyes intense on him. It sent a chill down his spine, the way she was looking at him. Yet for once, much to his confusion, it wasn't out of any fear or defiance against her trying to dominate him... it was something else. Yet he didn't know what. He just stared back, wide-eyed. Not really confused either though... he felt like he knew what she wanted almost...

She took a bold step forward then and he felt his hands starting to sweat. She was still looking at him so intensely. He couldn't look away... and it was freaking him out.

She continued her pursuit on him, each step slow and filled with suspense. But despite the fingernail-gnawingly slow pace, Arnold felt it was going entirely too quickly.

Finally, as she stood before him now, staring down at him and casting her long shadow, he managed to find his voice. "H-Helga?" He cleared his squeaky tone away and tried again, with much more conviction this time thankfully, "Helga... what's going on? Did you pull me in here?" He tried to look at her sternly in order to get answers since that always worked for some reason, but he was afraid it came off more nervous than anything.

She answered though, despite his nerves, but it was not the answer he'd expected. "I... have a confession to make, Arnold..." She looked away... shyly? Her arms that were crossed over her chest were now behind her back, her posture looking a bit less assured of herself. An odd sight.

He just blinked at her a second, before raising an eyebrow and tilting his head ever so slightly. "You do?"

Helga just nodded slowly, her darkened eyes coming to rest back on him now, with her head still bowed and the light still casting behind her giving her an almost ethereal glow.

He couldn't help but stare a moment, his heart picking up speed. What was she getting at? "Helga, I don't know if I und-"

Suddenly she had grabbed his hands and were holding them tightly in both of her own, pulling him a bit closer to her without really meaning to. He stumbled forward slightly and stared up at her now, feeling the warmth radiating from her. He didn't know what it was. The shy, nervous, even panicked look in her eyes, the darkness of the room, the way the beams of light shone off her golden hair, or how he was just noticing how seriously warm she was... but he felt... attracted.

She spoke then, and he had to hold back a gulp at hearing how sweet her voice sounded now on top of everything, "Arnold... I just wanted to say... I've ALWAYS wanted to tell you that I... I lo-"

_Prrrrrrrbbbbbbbbttt..._

Helga froze. Arnold's almost enamored eyes turned just plain wide, and he didn't move.

Arnold cleared his throat after a long silence and ripped his eyes away from her, confused. "Um, Helga... did you just-"

Suddenly Helga had him pressed up against the door with her fist clutched tightly to his collar, and her once shy eyes were dark as night, hidden under her eyebrow as she glared. "Speak of this to ANYONE, Paste for Brains, and the next 'confession' I ever make will be before a judge... for MURDERING YOU!"

Arnold recoiled back against the door more, and he was flat against it as he rationalized, "Helga, it's really not that big a-"

Helga shook him a little then and shook her head, still glaring. "PUH-lease! You saw what these vultures did to Phoebe when she let one loose, cracked the whip, cut the _cheese_! I'll never live it down! Blab about this to anyone and I can promise you, you _WILL regret it_!"

Arnold coughed a little then and, as kindly as possible, stepped away from the door and out of her grasp. "Okay, Helga, I've got it." He put a hand on the doorknob and excused himself from the room quickly, leaving Helga to stew in the juices of yet another failed confession.

* * *

**A/N: **O_O

_**REVIEW?**_

Heh, heh...


	18. ApParently Painful

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**ApParently Painful**

People were always so careful to not bring up his parents.

In some ways, he'd admit he was grateful for that, because it was a complicated situation for him, but most times, he also had to admit... it kind of annoyed him.

He could tell people made a special effort at it, but they didn't have to. He really wasn't THAT sensitive about it on most days. Not to say he wasn't sad or scarred by it, because he was, deeply so, but not as much as most people seemed to think. Bringing it up and talking about it didn't bring him to tears, or make him want to just break down on his knees in pain and agony. It wasn't that kind of sadness... not anymore anyway. He had few memories of his parents anymore anyway. No, it wasn't really like that... it was hard to feel sad about something you can barely even remember having in the first place. What it was that always got to him was all that he knew he'd missed out on because of it. After all, he watched all his friends get taught how to ride their bikes by their dads... he'd see moms kissing their wounds to make them better and hugging them... he'd see them having picnics, and fishing, and laughing and playing together... and he knew he could never experience that... familial bonding. That was what really struck him deep. All the wasted years.

But despite all that... it had been years. Years had passed, he barely remembered them, and he hadn't seriously cried since he was just a little kid. No, it wasn't that kind of sadness anymore. It was more of an... empty feeling. A deep disappointment and hurt that was buried deep inside him. It was an old wound that would never truly heal completely, but it had closed over for the most part... He disliked dwelling on it very much, but sometimes, he just plain couldn't help it. He was an orphan, after all, and every single day he was reminded of that. Whenever anyone mentioned their mom or dad to him, it panged inside him that he didn't have that. He could never have that again as far as he knew.

But still, the special effort, the awkward looks, the uncomfortable silences... weren't worth it. Sometimes he wished very deeply that someone would just... ask about it for once. Just to let him get it all out. Just _once_. To just... stop trying to make it such a big deal, because the more they did that, the deeper it panged inside him that it WAS a big deal. And that was the last thing he ever wanted to think about. He wished people would ask, wouldn't think he would randomly burst into tears for their being curious, wouldn't look at him like he was different, or like his situation was so awful and needed to be tip-toed around at all times. It made him feel like there was something wrong with him, like he was handicapped or something...

But no one ever would ask. He knew that.

But at the end of the day, it wouldn't matter anyway. Because he'd still be stuck feeling empty, and he'd still be an orphan, and it would still be a big deal.

And for now, he was just working on trying to accept that.

But he never truly would.

* * *

**A/N: **I guess I've just read one too many fics with Arnold having random bawl sessions over his parents being gone. :| It's kinda annoying to read, to be honest. I mean, I've got a situation similar to Arnold's, and it's really not all that bad. e_e And it's annoying as heck when people get all, "OMG, you poor thing! D:" about it. I was just thinking, maybe Arnold feels the same? He's had to deal with that his entire life. And people think that just because someone brought it up that the wound is going to be SO fresh that he starts bawling like a baby and getting all sensitive? He's been an orphan most of his life. He must be used to it. Even in "The Journal" we got to see how it makes him feel, and he really just looked forlorn and pained, but not overly emotional like he wanted to cry his eyes out or anything. So yeah, just wanted to get this off my chest. :P I hope it wasn't too hideous to read. Love you guys! And don't forget to check out my profile for an important note!

_**REVIEW!**_


	19. A Clingy Situation

**A/N: **I'm writing something again. xD Brace yourselves, lovelies.

**Disclaimer: **_Hey Arnold!_ doesn't belong to me, DUH. We've only been over this a kajillion times. XD Also, "Rigley's" is a spoof of "Ripleys," if it's not obvious enough. xD

* * *

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**A Clingy Situation  
**

Arnold was the clingiest little boyfriend EVER.

She wasn't even exaggerating. He actually truly was. She'd contemplated calling Rigley's a couple times, 'cause she just KNEW she could get him a spot in it.

Everywhere she went, he was there. Now, not that she was complaining or anything - after all, she loved the little freak - but still. She'd always figured when-or rather, _if_ Arnold started loving her back, he'd probably be pretty attached and clingy, like he'd been with all his crushes before her, but criminy... He was just taking things too far.

He called her every morning and every night, he had to see her EVERY DAY no matter what, he was always inviting her to things and asking her to go places, and it just never ended, hour after hour... She'd always dreamed of this kind of stuff, but to have it actually_ happen_... And she KNEW it wasn't just in her head either 'cause he'd invited her to some apparently 'all guy' events quite a few times and heard the other guys complaining about why she always had to be there. And Arnold would just shrug and move things along. It was just... kind of... not annoying, no... but something. It was SOMETHING!

She didn't even have the heart to say no to him anymore. She'd have things scheduled with other people, but if Arnold asked her afterwards to do something with him, she'd always have to cancel. She'd said no once and the disappointment on his face had struck a blade through her heart. He just... NEVER tired of her. But as grateful as she was for it, it certainly got tiring for HER at times. Sometimes SHE felt like the boyfriend in their relationship, always having to bend to him and make him happy like she did. She always loved spending time with him, really... but it was EXHAUSTING. There were literally no breaks! And after seven years of no love, few kisses, and ZERO touching, having all this affection suddenly piled on top of her was kinda overwhelming to the point she really just had _no idea_ what to _do_. She wanted to just tell him, "Arnold... please... slow down!" but at the same time, she had to admit... she didn't want him to.

She enjoyed the morning phone calls, and the late night giggle-fests, and the non-stop being around him, and hourly kisses, and nearly every second getting to see that loving look on his face when she caught him staring at her.

So no matter how much it overwhelmed and confused her at times, she really couldn't complain. She'd loved him almost her entire life after all, so really... how could she blame him for loving her back just a little too much sometimes?


	20. Finding the Soft Side

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Finding the Soft Side**

Arnold had always known Helga had a soft side to her. He knew that she wasn't as tough as she looked or as mean as she acted. He also knew he was pretty much the only one that thought that, though, and sometimes that could test him. He didn't quite understand why he was the only one that could ever find the good in Helga. Or, well… he actually could understand it, to an extent. Helga didn't just have rough edges… She WAS a rough edge. The idea of her having a soft side anywhere on her to anyone with any sort of logical sense to them, was pretty ridiculous. And Arnold knew that.

But he'd seen it a few times. He could've sworn he did. He'd seen that flicker of rightness and goodness come to her eyes for a split-second before it was doused violently in the waters of Helga's rage… rage that, to Arnold, looked _kind of _forced.

But still, her having a soft side was really only a theory. There wasn't a lot of proof to hold it up, except for things he'd _thought_ he'd seen before. Maybe he was just idealizing her? And if so, why? She was just a bully. Normally he could disregard bullys no problem, but he just couldn't seem to give up hope on _her_… It wasn't even a choice at this point. He NEEDED her to have a good side in her. If he ever found out she really was heartless and cold, he'd… well, he didn't know. He didn't really want to think about it. Even if the idea did come to mind nearly every day, usually around the time he was buried under a sea of spitballs.

Despite himself, he still couldn't help but sometimes feel it was hopeless. That she was just a no good bully and he didn't get why he ever entertained the thought that she wasn't. It'd make him feel slightly bitter inside. These days had become much more common over the years.

But in all his time of believing Helga had a soft spot, of observing her and taking mental notes, of keeping that idea that Helga was really a good and decent person inside of him, he'd never expected… _this_.

Ten-years-old and in the middle of the jungle, Arnold was staring blearily up into two absolutely horrified and teary blue eyes. He was feeling pretty dizzy and out of it, and the feeling was only getting stronger, waves of it coming and spreading from where the poison dart had shot him on the leg. His mouth felt numb, but he tried to speak anyway, "U-Um… H-Helga? Wha—"

She shushed him quickly, putting her hand gently over his mouth. "Shhh, shhh, Arnold, i-it's okay…" her voice sounded pretty unstable, and despite his condition, made Arnold's eyes open a bit wider, "y-you just got hit by one of those stupid darts and fell… It's no b-big deal…" She sniffed.

In all the time Arnold had known Helga, he'd never truly seen her cry… Or, he'd seen her cry a few times in a hysterical fit on one of their little, uh… "adventures," but he'd never seen her truly, _emotionally_ cry. It was boggling his mind… or maybe that was the poison. Her hand was still on his mouth, but he tried speaking again anyway, to at least _attempt_ to soothe her nerves a little. Seeing her this upset was upsetting him a little, for some reason. And he knew having his heart beating this fast was only going to make the poison spread faster. Unfortunately, though, his voice came out but a muffled mumble beneath her hand. His eyelids grew a bit heavier.

Helga noticed this and screeched slightly, grabbing him and pulling him off the ground slightly as she patted his cheek hastily. "No, no, no! Don't go into the light! Oh, criminy, I KNEW this would happen! I should have NEVER let you go first! Maybe if you'd let ME go you'd be okay right now…" She sniffled, the tears starting to travel down her cheeks in streams as Arnold's eyes somehow managed to widen again. "Stupid football head…" she mumbled with grief, hanging her head.

Arnold just stared at her in dazed amazement. She'd actually wish _she_ was in this position instead of him? Was he hallucinating this somehow? And if he was… why of all things would he hallucinate Helga mourning over him and… and stroking his cheek of all things? But no… she was definitely here, he could feel her hair tickling his face distinctly. He really couldn't believe it. All this time trying to get her show him her soft side to find out that…

_He_ was her soft side.

He'd never would have anticipated _that_… not even after her confession.

And he'd have _especially _never anticipated that he'd actually… like that.

A blush rose in his cheeks as strongly as it could in his poisoned and weak state before he finally just passed out in Helga's arms, the trees casting dull, dark shadows over them…

* * *

**A/N:**"OMG OMG OMG IS HE LIKE DEAD AND STUFFZ? :O"

*Wearing dark black cloak and holding scythe, eyes wide*** **YES… I keeled Arnold! }:D *Lightning strikes and organ music blares*

…Okay, no, he just passed out. The Green Eyes will find them and give him the antidote and everything'll be peachy-keen then. XD But, uh… I don't know, I just… It's been a boring day, I stayed up all night, I've spent most of the day playing tetris, and I am feeling DA-RAINED! Felt like writing sumthin,' so there we are! Don't I just feel dandy now? *Dry look*

XD Lol, well, hope you enjoyed my… *Checks word count and winces*** **REALLY-cutting-it-close-to-NOT-being-a-drabble drabble… *Coughs* Yeah…

REMEMBER, CHILLRENZ!

_**REVIEW!**_


	21. Real Love

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Real Love**

You know, I always thought I knew what love was. I'd had enough crushes to be able to tell the difference between a small crush and a really, really _big_ crush. I'd had a lot of crushes in my life. I can't ever remember a time I _didn't_ like girls. There were a lot of them out there, too; smart, pretty, funny, cute. So many to pick from. Sometimes I'd even have more than one crush at a time. I've lost _count_ of how many I've gone goofy over. Most were short-lived, but some could last _months_. And I think I heard a statistic once that if you still have a crush on someone after four months… you're already in love. If that's true, I've been in love a handful of times. And I'm only _ten_.

Love was an easily definable word in my mind. It was that fluttery feeling in your stomach, that gooey, warm feeling that wells up in your chest, and the feeling of your heart speeding up really fast. It made you want to spend more time with that person, made you think about them a lot, and smile whenever you did. It feels… _good_. Really good.

But would you believe me if I told you that… that wasn't love at all?

I know that sounds weird, and believe me, if some kid had told me that a year ago, I would've thought they were dumb, too. But hear me out.

Just a little over seven months ago… I fell in love with someone I never thought I would. I mean, when I pictured my ideal woman I pictured someone sweet, caring, patient, kind, genuine, and pretty. Maybe funny, too. Who knew? It was always a pretty general image in my head. She'd be really good with kids, too. And we'd have a ton in common. Someone I could really picture myself marrying one day and having kids with. So I could have a more… _normal_ life. A nice, normal wife with nice, normal kids in a nice, normal house. A dream life.

But instead, what I found myself falling for was someone callous, impatient, dishonest, sarcastic, and rude, with a cruel sense of humor and a laugh that at times could be defined as downright maniacal.

I know, I know… _How_ in the world did _that_ happen?

Well, sometimes I wonder the same thing, but along with all those things, she was also secretly kind, loving, sweet, funny, talented, poetic, and passionate, with big blue eyes and long, shiny blonde hair.

Put it all together and you've got Helga G. Pataki.

Heh, Arnold and Helga… Never would have seen that coming. But something that normally would have made me shudder a year ago just makes me smile fondly now.

But why is someone like me with her when my ideal woman syncs up so narrowly with her description? Well, that's simple. I love her. But not fake love… I _really_ love her.

I'm not with her because she makes my heart thunder, or because she makes my skin tingle, or even because she makes me lose my breath sometimes. Love isn't about any of those things. Those are just small factors to love.

Love isn't about tingly feelings or dreamy smiles or fluttering hearts. It's something much deeper than any of those things. Though they are _nice_, they're not what love is all about.

No, I didn't know real love until I met Helga. She turned my entire life upside down and spun it around a few times just for fun. She laughed at me and mocked me and made numerous threats throughout my life. And even after we got together she didn't quite stop. A new side to all that stuff just showed itself is all. Now I get mocked and laughed at then hugged and kissed. It's a little weird, but I'm used to it by now. And surprisingly, I'm perfectly content with the setup.

_That's_ what real love is. It's that deeper feeling of looking at someone, and knowing that no matter what, you'll never be able to part with them. Not because of the feelings they give you, but just because they're… _them_. It doesn't matter what they do or say to you, just as long as they stay themselves, you'll love them. It's what makes it so Helga can make me absolutely livid, but always back at her side by lunchtime. It's what makes it so I can so easily overlook her cruel, plotting behavior and smile when she's yelling at me. It's what makes it so easy for me to talk to her about anything and even laugh when she's being sarcastic. And it's what's made me look forward to seeing her smirk and made me constantly want to make her smile or laugh. It doesn't matter what flaws she has, I love her. It doesn't matter if she's nothing like what I pictured my dream girl to be, I _love_ her. It doesn't matter that there are tons of other girls out there I could be having crushes on instead, I love _her_. If you asked me why, I couldn't really explain it. I just do. It's how it is, and I know that will probably never change. Maybe that's why so many people get divorced or are unhappy in their marriages; they get married because of those fuzzy, passionate feelings and not that underlying, deeper feeling of… _true_ love. Of being unable to part with someone; of not being able to picture your future without them. It's not just a feeling of love, it's a feeling of family and belonging. It's weird, but… I feel it. It's a very… reassuring feeling, and it's better than all those fuzzy, happy feelings _combined_.

I had no idea what love was before I met Helga. But…

Now I do.

Now I feel it.

* * *

**A/N: **I swear, this is cutting it SO CLOSE to not being a drabble… -.o *Gulps*

But yeah, uh… Idk, I've just always thought that love seemed kinda selfish because you only stay with that person because they make _you_ feel good. Kinda disturbed me. But just recently I came to the realization I didn't really think that anymore, and I thought about it, and realized love really _is_ selfless. It's not about feeling good or anything, it's about something deeper, and makes it so even if they _don't_ make you feel good you still come crawling back every time. It's a little pathetic, but eh, that's love for ya. *Shrugs* Turns even the most profound of people into bumbling imbeciles. Hehe.

*Porky the pig appears* Th-Th-Th-Th-Th-Th-That's all folks! :D …Hey, wait, this isn't Warner Brothers. o_O A-A-A-Ah well… As long as I'm p-p-paid. ;)

_**REVIEW!**_

...He's not getting paid_.__**  
**_


	22. Homographic Insults

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Homographic Insults**

"HAIR BOY!"

"What?" Gerald and Arnold both said instinctively and turned around at the same time, Gerald with a scowl and Arnold with wide-eyed concern.

Helga stormed over on the playground by the two boys, her hands on her hips, and tapping her foot testily. "WHY aren't you making out with me?"

Gerald gawked. "WHY THE HECK—"

Arnold gawked as well. "Helga, what—"

"Well, stop gawking and tell me what you've got to say for yourself!"

Gerald's face turned green and his eye twitched. "I don't even know what you're—"

Arnold just stared at her with his face bright red, his eyes wider than a deer's about to get run over. "But Helga, what are you talking—"

"You know I told you to meet me behind the dumpster promptly after lunch time! You idiot, how hard is that?"

Gerald rubbed his face all over with his hands, like he was trying to massage away the disgust. "You never told me anything of the sort and even if you HAD I'd have—"

Arnold stared at her with his eyes even wider than before, if that were possible, and he backed up against the wall behind the bench they were sitting on. "Helga, I'm sorry, but I don't remember you telling me anything like that and—"

"NO EXCUSES! Now get behind that dumpster RIGHT NOW so I can ravage your lips!"

Gerald gawked again. "NO!"

Arnold gawked as well. "WHAT?"

Arnold and Gerald both blinked then, finally realizing they'd been speaking at the same time, and looked at each other with wide eyes as they said at the same time, "Wait, you think she's talking to YOU?"

Helga looked between the two with one side of her eyebrow raised. "Huh, I guess I do call both of you Hair Boy… I should really branch out a little more with my insults. But no matter. Come on, _Arnold_." She grabbed him by his collar and dragged the poor lovesick kid behind the dumpster, where a loud bang was heard then shortly after… silence. It almost seemed as if she'd just murdered him.

Gerald was just left sitting on the bench, holding his stomach with his eyes still wide in shock. "Ohhh, geez… What an almost-nightmare that was…"

* * *

**A/N: **…Oh, come on, I can't be the only one that's noticed that she calls them BOTH Hair Boy! I've had to dance around that one for years when writing them out. xD

Meanwhile, doesn't the title just make you go "WTF"? ;) LOL! I had a much simpler one to start out with, but then I was like, "Eh, why not?" xD I don't know if it makes COMPLETE sense, but I don't really care, it just sounds funny. x]

_**REVIEW!**_


	23. Nothing Special

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Nothing Special  
**

It had just been a regular day. Nothing special about it. The sun wasn't particularly sunny or warm, the grass wasn't exceptionally green, and the sky wasn't an endless, flawless blue. It was just Tuesday. And she was just eating her lunch on the bench. And that was it.

He had appeared almost out of nowhere, or so it seemed to her as she hadn't been paying very much attention to reality right then. He had just sat beside her casually, like any regular Joe might. There was no nervousness in his step, no glint in his eyes. He just sat. And she just continued to eat, as if he wasn't there.

Then the question had come, sudden yet expected, plain as day, "So you really love me?"

She looked over at him, seeing he was looking blankly ahead of himself, out over the rest of the playground, as if he hadn't just asked her such a deep, personal question.

Surprisingly, the answer came easily; readily, from her lips.

"Doi."

He nodded. And she continued to eat. And that was it.

Then, a solid five minutes later, she suddenly found that his hand had slipped into hers, and his blank face had a vague tint of pinkness. He responded plainly, once more, "Cool." And then he looked at her, finally, a smile in his eyes. "I was wondering when you'd admit it."

And she just smiled a bashful smile and they sat there. She finished her lunch, and he gave her company. They didn't talk. They just sat and existed. Together. Their fingers laced.

Because sometimes, love didn't need some dramatic, overly complicated plot, it didn't need suspenseful sword fights and passionate, deep kisses in the night, and it didn't need a perfect, sunshiny afternoon in Paris.

Love was just perfect plain as day.

* * *

**A/N:** Thought this up while I was in the bathroom. It totally shows, right?

It's more for moral purposes. I know they're OOC! I care not for your technicalities!

But Idk, it just seems like everyone expects love to be some big, epic, crazy thing that happens and then your entire world falls apart and you go insane with passion and epicness ensues then, and when they finally DO get around to falling in love and it doesn't happen that way, they think something's wrong... xD Truth is, love is very simple. Don't muck it up with your melodramatic poetry, PLEASE! Dx The chick flicks are horror enough, thank you.

******_REVIEW!_**


	24. Blue Ocean

**Blue Ocean**

_She's just like the ocean_

_Deep and blue_

_Her depths hold mystery_

_Whispers of truth_

_You'll never fully know her_

_Though you may wish_

_You can search her forever_

_You'll find nothing but fish_

_Oh, but she can make you smile_

_And she'll do so with ease_

_Her laughter is bubbly_

_Her voice like a breeze_

_A smile so endless_

_Eyes oh so blue_

_She lures you in with her beauty_

_Then destroys you_

_Her waves roar and crash_

_Her power is startling_

_For a once sparkling sea_

_She sends your stomach churning_

_You find yourself trapped_

_Head under and breathless_

_She throws you like feathers_

_Angry and restless_

_No, you won't expect it_

_It'll come out of sight_

_Just as you're most peaceful_

_You'll have to fight_

_Oh, but she doesn't mean to_

_It's just her way_

_When rain falls so heavily_

_Her waves have to sway_

_She'll rage all night_

_She may rage all day_

_Your cries are too soft_

_It's pointless to pray_

_Just as it happens_

_It's gone just as quick_

_Seas once so violent_

_Are still as a brick_

_The sun will rise up_

_Her waters will shine_

_Your love is renewed_

_It's not such a crime_

_For to love one so passionate_

_May come with a price_

_But he doesn't mind it_

_He just loves her blue eyes_

* * *

**A/N**: A lifetime's worth of song writing and poetry… and this is what I have to show for it. *Hangs head* I'm a sad, sad, pathetic little person…

I was writing for "Hypnotizing Helga," and this suddenly stuck in my head, so… Indeed. XP Whether it's Brainy, or Arnold, or who the heck ever, I do not know who wrote this. It started out as Brainy, but somewhere along the line it crossed over more into Arnold territory. So I don't know. It's whoever you like. I don't care.

**_REVIEW!_**


	25. Stubborn

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Stubborn**

Some days, at the back of his mind, he admits that he wants to love her.

He can't explain why, and though it disturbs him, he feels he can't help it. He's drawn to her. There is an attraction there, inexplicable as it may be, and he can't dismiss it. It makes its presence known every time he sees her; big, blue eyes, golden hair and all, with that insufferable self-righteousness about her.

It's a desperate conundrum he finds himself in so often. He tries so hard to convince her of it. That she has good in her. That there is a good, kind, decent human being just under the veil of her wickedness. But she is flippant of his attempts, and he curses himself for trying.

Her bad manners, impudence, melodramatic displays of anger, cowardice, hatred—she is impossible to get along with, to even be in the company of for more than a couple of minutes. But her nastiness is forced. He knows it is. It _must_ be. No one could be that cruel.

He will always try to convince himself that the reason he tries so frequently to bring her to the light is because of a simple duty to uphold his moral ground. To prove that everyone has kindness in them. It's not as if he hasn't done the same for others before. She is just stubborn.

But he knows deep down, if that was the case, he wouldn't care quite this much. She wouldn't be able to strike cords so deeply inside him. She is special. And he wishes each day that she would let him love her, because he knows they could be something great. If she would just let them be.

Still, the days go by, and she never changes. She is still nasty, stubborn, and cruel, and she refuses to be anything but.

He will just have to accept that. Even if he knows the chances of that are slim.

Because, hey. He can be stubborn too.

* * *

**A/N**: I am busy with many things. Many things, many things, many things.

Drabbles are nice little waiting blocks, though, yes? Much better than that dreadful waiting music.


	26. Stark Red

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Stark Red**

Blood. There was so much blood. It was inescapable, inevitable in quantity; opening the door was like a portal to a new world. The once white, immaculately kept apartment was drenched with it, as though the devil himself poured it from the ground up, and it crawled up every wall, to the very ceiling.

Drip.

Drip.

It fell. It fell from everywhere. Eyes darting, it seemed impossible to find the source of one drip, as the second before you found it another drip would fall, from an entirely new location. It would fall and soak into the carpet, hiding away with the rest of the droplets. The white carpet was red. Stark red.

Drip.

Drip.

Desperate eyes snapped down, snapped like his sanity, and the red slithered towards him, dark voices whispering into his ears and bouncing off the walls. Cruelly. It grabbed him by the ankles, crawled up his legs, red soaking and entwining through the stitching of his jeans. He tried to run, to scream, and when that didn't work, he tried closing his eyes, and not even the thin flesh of his eyelids would obey his begging heart.

He watched, watched as the red consumed him slowly, teasing, until the blood reached the bare flesh of his arms. It didn't feel wet. It felt like a hot breath over his skin, seductive, inevitable, inescapable. He stared, mind blank, heart dead, as it ate him alive, before reaching his eyes. The world went red. Stark red.

Then he was blind.

It was almost a relief.

Until life invaded him again, and he flew up, gasping and crying and heart racing and—_Oh_, did his head hurt.

Immediately, a light was clicked on and warm hands were on his back and shoulders. The voice was frantic. "Arnold! Arnold, are you okay? What's wrong?"

The tears had stopped. He wasn't sure when. He swallowed.

"I…" he stuttered, voice raw, "I don't know, I…" Images of his dream flew past his eyes and he stiffened. It lasted only a second, before he was turning around in a flash and grasping at her, desperate hands falling to her stomach before his brain could catch up.

Her hands fell along with his, resting on top of his, and her eyes came back to his, sparkling and wide with concern. "Arnold, the baby's fine. What happened? Please tell me what's wrong."

It took him a full minute to drag his eyes up from their hands to hers again, earnest as they were. "I… I'm sorry, I… I dreamt that you lost him." His Adam's apple bobbed, she noticed. She noticed everything.

"Or her," she corrected thoughtlessly. Her eyes widened then as she understood, before falling closed and she shook her head. "Oh, Arnold, please tell me you're not still worried about what Phil said before. It was nothing."

"But what if it wasn't?" he asked, almost in a plead, hands tightening. "What if it really happens? Everything else did. I mean, we're married, Helga! Look at us! _Married_… Helga…" His head fell to her stomach, resting on top of her hands, and his shoulders dropped, shook slightly.

Helga looked down at him, pity and sorrow overwhelming her as she sighed, bringing a hand up gently to run through his hair. "It means nothing, Arnold… Just because Phil told you we'd end up together and we did, doesn't mean our first child will be a miscarriage, too. We may be similar to Phil and Gertie, but… we're still an entirely different couple, two entirely different people. We're not the same." She leaned down and kissed him on the head, keeping her head there for a moment as she whispered, "Everything will be fine… I promise."

And just like that, his fears subsided, and he relaxed.

Still, Phil's haunted words echoed through the back of his mind, ever-present and daunting, "_There was so much… so much blood_…"

Drip.

Drip.

The water fell from the broken faucet across the room, from the open door of their darkened bathroom, taunting Arnold.

Drip.

Drip.

_Drip_.


	27. Musical Poems

**Disclaimer: **Astrid ist mine. RESPECT THE OWNAGE.

* * *

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Musical Poems**

His best friend's words gripped his mind, insistent and observant, in that soft English accent. They wouldn't leave him be for some reason. He couldn't shake the thought from his mind.

"_Brainy… forgive me, but these… really look more like song lyrics than poems_."

And he found himself agreeing. Not at the time, no. But now, staring down at the rumpled sheets in his sickly, white hands, he was starting to see what she saw.

"_Well… isn't that what a song basically is? A poem someone put a tune to? There's not much difference…"_

His silver eyes roved over the words, carefully, scrutinizing each syllable with hard focus. He could practically hear the soft music drifting into his ears now, the love poem flying and floating up from the paper with each note.

"_Yes, but there __is__ a difference, isn't there? These scream song to me… I can hear it now. It's beautiful, Brainy."_

The words were beautiful. Deeply metaphorical, some lines more long-winded than the last, written with an excited, reverent flourish. He'd never thought about it before. He'd always liked music. He knew he had a knack for it. He heard music everywhere he went. With every drip of a faucet, every kick of a can, every sneeze, every wheeze. Music was in the wind, in the rustling of trees, in the crunching of dirt beneath his feet. Each another beat to the song that was life.

"_Thanks, I guess…"_

He'd never realized. Never thought about it. It was just a vague fact at the back of his head, one he never paid any mind to. He'd never considered.

But now here it was, naked before his eyes.

It had always been this way. It never hadn't been. He'd finally figured it out.

He loved music.

"_You're very welcome, Brainiac… Future famous musician…"_

The soft chuckle echoed through his mind, a song all it's own.


	28. Happily Ever Afters

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Happily Ever Afters**

She won't tell anyone, but she has an old storybook hidden under her pillow. The pages are worn from excessive reading, the once shining pictures smudged from hands being run over them, and the cover dented and scraped and stepped on.

It's her most prized possession.

Her mother gave it to her. Bought it at the little bookstore across the street from the hospital one day, and gave it to her, sweeping her bright red locks from her forehead as she smiled, "For my ever so lovely little princess."

She remembered, the first story she ever read out of the book was Beauty and the Beast. At the time, it was just a fairytale, a story she giggled and swooned over, then forget the next moment until the next time she'd open the book. In later years, though, after her mother's passing, she began looking at the story in a new light. How the princess' mother was gone, her father poor and trying to make ends meat, the hard times, the people making fun, the prince that came in the end…

She clung to that story. If she could just hold out, hold out through the harder times, keep things positive and bright, then maybe, just maybe, she could get her happily ever after. The perfect ending, the perfect prince, the perfect life.

But life went on uneventfully, and no prince came. She would delude herself into thinking he did for a while, giggle and flutter her eyelashes, but in the end it would die. Everything died.

Still, though, every night she would open up that book, flip through the wrinkled pages, and smile. She wouldn't give up hope. No matter what anyone said, her day would come.

Her day would come.


	29. Perfectly Flawed

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Perfectly Flawed**

The football headed man huffed, tired, and the words came out before he could stop them, "Must you always be _so_ perfect?"

Lila's big green eyes snapped up to him, blinking in confusion as she dried off a plate. "Whatever are you talking about, dear?"

He sauntered over to her, in no rush, and put a large hand on the counter beside her, his eyes almost sad as they watched her petite little hands wiping the water from the plate. "I guess I just don't understand…"

She observed him. Her hands had slowed in their drying, as her movements often did when he was close to her. She fluttered her eyelashes at him, almost without thinking. "Don't understand what?" She put the plate down along with the towel and shifted to stand in front of him, concerned hands going to adjust his collar.

He flinched away, though, as if her hands were on fire, and she stopped, her hands slowly retreating back. "How you can be…" he faltered for a moment, before choking out, "so _you_, and we could be here… and you're not _gone_."

Lila tilted her head to him, a small tendril of auburn hair falling out of place from her braid and glinting red in the light. It made his heart drop. "Sweetheart, whatever brought this on?"

He stared at her a long time, unresponsive. Finally, he turned around, walking away. "I don't know. Never mind it."

"Arnie," her scolding voice stopped him, "you know I'm not perfect. You've told me before I'm not. That was one of the reasons I fell for you. You didn't look at me like some perfect, little pristine China doll, the ideal housewife, not like the rest… I've never heard you call me perfect before… It's… It's ever so unnerving." Her voice quivered. She hardly ever said 'ever so' anymore. Only when she was upset. It shattered him.

Turning around, he walked back over to her, his hands coming up to wipe away any tears he thought might have fallen. There were none. Still, he continued the motion, if only to soothe her. "I _don't_ think of you like that… Just like you said you don't think of me like some emotionless, creepy freak. _I don't_, okay? I know you're not perfect perfect, but… you're perfect to me… Is that wrong?"

She stared at him, sorrow long faded, and just managed to shake her head.

He breathed out in relief. "I just said so because… I don't get why you're still with me, after all this time. I would have left me a long time ago."

She couldn't help the small giggle that popped from her lips, like the soft ring of a wind chime, musical and pure. He wanted to smile, but he held it back. He didn't want to risk the disappointment.

"Why are you still here?"

Her smile faded a second or two, before it came back, kinder than before, more loving, and she brought her hands up to remove his from her face. She held his calloused, hard hands in her softer ones, gently. "You said why yourself, silly… I know you think you're creepy, and a freak, and whatever other ridiculous things people used to call you… But I know you're not. I understand why you are the way you are, and I don't mind." She came forward to wrap her arms around him, hugging tightly, as he remained motionless, listening. "I don't care what people think, Arnie. I only care about _you_. I love you. I could never leave."

It took a while for these words to sink in, but she was patient, and soon she felt his muscles shift. His arms came around her, soft at first, before encasing her tightly. He didn't have to speak, but he did anyway, "I love you too." And she believed him, just as he believed her. Disappointment be damned.

They stayed that way for what felt like forever, and Lila was happy. Arnie may not have seemed like a prince to most, but she didn't care. She wasn't most. She was Lila Sawyer.

And Arnie was her prince, and she was never letting go.

* * *

**A/N: **Fun fact: "Perfectly Flawed" is a song I came up with four or five years ago. It's fun that I got to write this based kinda off that. Even if it wasn't a love song, lol.


	30. Golden Hero

**A/N: **Ugh, I had such problems trying to find where to post this. Should I just open up a Brainy fic-like folder thing where I can post all my thoughts on Brainy? 0_o I may very well do that. Because I have a lot, and I want all mah fellow Brainy-ites to see them. xD Which reminds me, if you haven't read my fic "**Knocked Out**," this MAY seem a tad weird to you. So you might want to read that beforehand. *Shrugs*

**Disclaimer**: I only own underwear. Is "Hey Arnold!" underwear? Yeah, that's what I thought. Oh, and the last name "Williams" for Brainy is taken from NintendoGal55. :) Thanks for letting me steal from you, bud. XD :B

* * *

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Golden Hero**

Brainy thought too much.

Whether it was a curse set upon him from his name, or all the free time he found himself with, or something else entirely, he didn't know. All he knew was that if he was awake, his mind was on the run.

After concluding this an irreversible fact, he stopped fighting it. Instead he tried to keep his thoughts always on a pleasant note. If he had to think, then he would think happy thoughts. If his mind ever tried to take a detour, then he would calmly assess the situation, remind himself why it was not to be thought on any further, and go on with his day. He would keep things as simple as possible. Things were easier that way. There was less chaos in logic. Less pain. If one did not make something a problem in the first place, after all, then it would not need thinking on. And he had so, so many things he could very easily turn into big, painful problems for himself.

But no, he would keep things simple for himself, if nothing else. He thrived on logic, and with logic intact, life was easier. Some things were better left that way, he concluded. Some thoughts were better left dormant. If this made him seem strange, and his wheezy, forced smile creepy, then so be it. He liked solitude anyway. It made things simpler.

So no, he did not dwell on the fact every time she walked in his breathing spiked. He did not dwell on the fact he felt these urges and needs to follow her wherever she went. He did not dwell on how his heart nearly flew out the window when she looked at him.

But he would wonder sometimes _why_. If he was so focused, so deeply entwined and content with solitude and logic, was he so attracted to one so chaotic and mad? Why when he heard her evil laughter was he so attracted? Why were her rants and monologues and raves so irresistible to listen in on? She was the definition of insanity, of passion, of wild unpredictability. Were those not all the things he fought? The things he longed to avoid? Why was such madness so attractive to him? _He_, who was a man of logic, of control, of silent contemplation.

Every once in a while, the answer would spark in his mind, and he would shake it away. Deep down, he knew why he was so drawn to it, but it was one of those many things he knew were not best to dwell on. That were better left forgotten, locked away. He supposed it wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but he was simply not ready for such a realization.

The realization that perhaps his acceptance that he was a background character was a lie.

The realization that he loved chaos, insanity, and madness.

The realization that deep down, he wished he could be the main man for once, the guy who got the girl, someone people delighted in.

The realization he wanted to be a Golden Hero.

But such foolish ideas were not to be dwelled on… It was for his best.

Because he was Brainy Williams, and the last thing he would ever be, was anything _but_ Brainy Williams, the weird kid at the back of the class who couldn't stop breathing and thinking.

* * *

**A/N: **Ah, Brainy, how I love diving into your head. Your sick, sick head.

_**REVIEW!**_


	31. Too Much Ice Cream

**A/N: **Call this an addition/conclusion/whatever/ducks to my previous drabble, "A Clingy Situation." Enjoy! Or else I'll hunt you down and kill you with paper cuts. And don't think I won't.

**Disclaimer:** I'll claim to own a lot of things, but "HEY ARNOLD!" ain't one of them.

* * *

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Too Much Ice Cream  
**

"Pssst…"

Helga kept her head down.

"Psst…" it came a little louder.

Helga ignored it.

A piece of paper hit her in the head and bounced onto her desk.

Helga twitched, but otherwise ignored it.

"Psssst… Helga…"

Finally, Helga sighed and looked up.

Arnold grinned at her from his seat in front of her. "Hey, Helga…"

Her mouth twitched. "Yeah?"

Arnold giggled a little in love-struck glee. "Love you." He swept his eyes across her in shy affection.

Helga bit her lip, trying to hold back a smile. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction. "Love you too. Now be a good football head and get back to your work." She slumped in her chair, hiding her smile with a tone of annoyance, "Goodie-two shoes…"

Arnold just sighed and turned around in his seat with a small, dazed smile. He would no doubt be twitching with wanting to talk to her again in ten minutes or so. Thus was his routine nowadays.

She loved him. She really did. But he'd gotten so carried away with being in love with her. She'd never have expected him to be so jubilant and eager about her being his girlfriend now, but he was. She supposed he was just excited to finally have a girlfriend at all, and one that liked him back for once.

But—and she never thought she'd say this—it was a bit much, even for her. It wasn't that he annoyed her, it was just that she'd been so used to her privacy that having him constantly barging in now was a little… Okay, so it was annoying. He annoyed her. That was nothing new. He'd annoyed her countless times before. But she'd never thought he'd be able to annoy her by loving her too much.

So she was trying so hard to discourage him. Not to scare him off or make him stop loving her back–heck no, that would kill her–but just… stop being _so_ happy about it.

It was hard, though. He was so sweet. His constant badgering of her would irritate her beyond measure, but then as soon as she'd look up she'd see the warmth in his gaze and immediately want to kiss him. She knew he knew, too. He'd gotten so good at reading her, bless his infuriating little soul. She just wanted him to give her a little space every once in a while. It wasn't bad the way he was acting, but just… too much of a good thing. Even chocolate after eating it for six hours straight could make you a little sick.

But still, every time she looked at him, she instantly felt her love renewed tenfold. It was so hard to stay mad at angels. He was so perfect…

"Psst, Helga…"

Or maybe not.

"Helga, hey… You're cute when you're mad at me."

Helga's eyes snapped up, surprised. He just smiled lovingly, his eyes apologetic.

Bless his infuriating little soul…


	32. Poison

**Disclaimer: **I own Zachary Shortman and Phillip Shortman. They are mine. XP For anyone confused, they're Arnold and Helga's kids. Pretty much sums it up. And Phil hates romance and women. Enjoy.

* * *

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Poison**

Zack gave a short laugh before he raised his voice incredulously into the cell phone, jokingly, "Sophie! How could you say that? You know I'm freaking awesome."

"You're a freaking idiot," Phil muttered listlessly from his slumped position in his chair across the room, taking a sip of his chocolate milk from a big coffee mug with the words "PROPERTY OF PHILLIP SHORTMAN" scrawled in white paint across the front.

Zack was silent for a few seconds or so, listening, before he let out some steam from his nose and said, "Oh, come on, that's stupid."

"You're stupid," Phil muttered.

Zack ignored Phil, taking a few steps away from him to stand behind the couch. After listening a minute or so, he made an interrupting high-pitched noise and said, "No, no, _no_. I'm not going to another one of those crazy concerts with you. Not after the last one. I still have those scars on my feet from the fire ants that crawled all over me… that you wouldn't let me kill." Zack palmed his face. "I'm scarred for life, Sophie, _literally_."

Phil snickered a little darkly.

Zack raised his eyebrow at him, and crossed the room in a flash to flick him in the ear. Phil yelped, rubbing his ear as he glared at Zack. Zack just smirked down at him.

After a few moments, though, his focus was back to the phone in his hand. "I'm sorry, Sophie…" his tone had gone unsure and guilty. The great dragon softened by the weakness imposed upon him by his gentle father. A conscience, and a great difficulty in refusing people, especially of the opposite sex.

Phil rolled his eyes, running a hand down one half of his face as his eyes stayed trained upward.

And, just as he'd expected, Zack sighed finally into the phone and relented with an unwilling smile, "Okay, fine, fine, Sophie, I'll go. I mean, whales are only the biggest things on Earth, after all. Clearly they're unable to fend for themselves. They need _our_ help." He laughed a little shakily, sighing as she laughed right after and called him silly.

Phil snorted, breathing out sardonically, "Only place you're going is a shrink's office after this has all blown up in your face." Another flick to the ear. "Stop that!" he bit furiously, rubbing his ear with an almost vicious ferocity.

Zack ignored him, biting down hard on his lip to keep from laughing. His mirth vanished seconds later, though, as Sophie spoke over the phone once more. Coughing slightly, he smiled and said discreetly into the phone, "Love you too, bye." He hung up then quick, slipping the phone into his jean pocket. He slammed his slim stature down into the couch then and kicked his feet up.

Phil raised an eyebrow at him, dead-eyed and flat-toned as usual. "You're already throwing around poison?"

Zack ignored his wording. "Yeah, we've been dating two months now. Love was to be expected." He shrugged, wishing so desperately for it to be left at that. It wasn't that he was ashamed or even embarrassed, he just knew how Phil could get about these things. And as entertaining as that might be to see the delirious little short-fused eleven-year-old fly off the handle, he just wasn't in the mood right now.

Several moments passed, before surprisingly enough, Phil stated simply with another absentminded sip from his mug, "I expect you'll regret this."

Zack regarded him a second or two before looking away and shaking his head. "Yeah, well, I expect you'll never stop wetting the bed, but hey, miracles happen all the time, right?"

A sharp intake of breath was taken.

It was silent for the rest of the night.


	33. Pie

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Pie**

Helga sits down at the table, grimacing at her date's choice of pie. "Ugh, what is that?"

He grins real big, teeth shining, and replies with his squeaky little voice, sounding repulsively delighted, "Pumpkin!"

She stays quiet for the rest of the night after that, enjoying her own pie and deflecting any conversation starters, before excusing herself from her date to 'go to the bathroom.' She deletes his number from her phone on her way home.

The next time, the date actually isn't so bad. They make small talk and eat their steaks, before dessert time rolls around and their server asks what they'd like. Her date smiles and replies without hesitation, "I'll take the blueberry pie, thanks."

Helga scrunches up her nose, but doesn't say anything. Making her own order, they talk a little more before their desserts come, though it's obvious the conversation now has an underlining awkwardness that wasn't there before. After a while, her date falls silent, knowing it's over.

She deletes his number right there at the table, just as he takes his last bite of pie.

On her next date, the guy is gorgeous. Shaggy dark blond hair, perfect grin, and big, sparkly brown eyes that could melt butter.

She doesn't stare, doesn't gape. Just deadpans, "What pie are you ordering?"

He replies almost absentmindedly, eyes roving over her face, taking her in appreciatively. "I was thinking boysenberry. Why do you ask?"

_So close_. She just sighs, and rests her tired head in her hand. This was going to be a long night. "No reason."

She deletes his number under the table, and does the same to his phone when he goes to the bathroom.

On her next date, she doesn't even sit down. Catching an eyeful of her date makes her instantly screech, and she slams her purse down on the table to make a point as she yells, "What the _hell_, Brainy? Where's my date?"

He grins the same moronic grin he's always made, and breathes out huskily, "Uh…" before looking around and shrugging. Cheeky bastard.

She's just about to clock him when she stops. She must have gotten really desperate to even ask, but she does all the same, a curious air about her now, "What kind of pie are you getting?"

He just shrugs. "Uh, I don't know. Apple?"

She leaves him knocked over in the restaurant with a broken nose and two black eyes, and doesn't turn back. She doesn't bother deleting his number. She's already smashed her phone against the brownstone.

Her next date is different than the rest. She worries more, puts on more makeup than usual, takes longer to pick out a dress, and arrives at the same time as he does. As they sit down, conversation is already strong, and they're eager to start the night.

The date is pleasant, playful, and Helga can't stop smiling.

Finally, the time comes for them to order their dessert. Helga almost forgets to ask him, is staring too hard at his face, when his voice breaks her of her happy thoughts, "So what pie are you getting?"

Throwing her own question back at her. He was clever, even if he didn't know it. She just shrugs, asking back, "What are you getting?"

He bites his lip, a bit reluctant to answer, before he smirks at her. "I asked you first, Helga."

She stares at him a while, before a smirk of her own forms, too strong for him, too wicked. "Sorry, but it's _ladies_ first."

He glares at her, but lets it go all the same. His answer is in a sigh, "Raspberry."

She's quiet for a few seconds, before asking blankly, "Really?"

He smiles sheepishly, almost blushing. "Yeah. Just don't tell my grandpa. He'd have a fit."

She laughs at him, and orders the same. The night goes on, them both switching pies every once in a while as a joke and at one point Helga even flicking some in his face. He tries and fails to lick it off his face, making her burst into laughter, before she just reaches across the table and kisses the pie off his cheek. He takes advantage of the situation and grabs her face, kissing her on the lips, their breath mingled with raspberry and sweetened crust.

"Stupid football head…" she mutters as they pull back, and he just grins goofily.

At the end of the night, she puts him on speed dial.

* * *

**A/N:** 'Cause pie is just… so important. xD

200 REVIEWS REACHED! HELL YEAH! *Throws football to the ground, waves someone else's red and yellow underwear above head, gets chased by Ronald McDonald shortly after*

As for me—CINAMMON APPLE ALL THE WAY, ACROSS THE SKY, SO INTENSE, AHHHHH! Dx That and banana cream, and chocolate, duh. :D And… And more… A lot more…*Shifty eyes*

How about you guys? What's your favorites? I'd love to hear. :D My lovely readers.

No pie was harmed in the writing of this drabble. *LIES*

_**REVIEW!**_


	34. Scars

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Scars**

The rain fell like soft petals, sliding across his skin. Cold against cold. He barely felt it. Couldn't remember the last time he'd blinked. His knuckles were ash white holding the flowers. His eyes bloodshot and barely recognizable. Normally bright, emerald eyes were a cold gray, emotionless and dead. His breaths came shallow and ragged.

He didn't care that his best dress pants were sunken into the mud, or that his suit jacket and shirt were soaked and heavy on his already sagging, stiff shoulders. The only real thought that had registered in his mind for hours was that he'd rather like sinking away into the ground, becoming apart of the wet, goopy dirt and sopping puddles of rain.

A touch came on his shoulder then, barely there against the numbness he'd once known as skin, but it was enough. His walls shattered like a bullet to a window, and his shoulders quaked, tears rushing so hot they practically evaporated when they hit the frozen air. Scars he'd long since sewn up and forgotten were sliced open anew, blood pouring out in oceans. Oceans he couldn't swim. Couldn't even fathom to _try_.

His eyes still didn't blink. His shoulders were the only things that moved. Tears slid silently down his face, adding a salty red tinge to his whitened cheeks. His companion didn't pay this any mind, though, as she kneeled beside him and kept her hand firmly clasped on his shoulder. The rain had stopped pouring on him, a light shadow cast across the dank surroundings, but he didn't notice. Something dry and warm had been draped across his shoulders, already starting to warm his soaking wet clothes and plaster them even more into his skin, but he barely felt it. Soft, velvety fingers came to wipe the tears from his cheeks, the caress barely present but still there. That, he did feel. He wordlessly leaned against her shoulder, eyes still welded to the same spot, as her hands lovingly wiped the hair from his forehead.

Neither of them knew how much time had passed, and neither of them cared. His voice shocked her, though, as it came cutting through the crackling rain with its wretched, hoarse tone, "What's it like?"

She doesn't have to ask to know what he's talking about, and it breaks her heart. Sighing quietly, she gently rests her head against his and answers honestly, "I don't know, Arnold… Mine are just there." She doesn't know how to explain it to him, but still, she tries. "They don't talk to me a lot, but they're there if I need to talk to them. They're there for me." Exhaling a moment, she tells him quietly, "Yours loved you. They would have done anything to make you smile."

His voice cracks, along with her heart. "How do you know?"

"Because I'm Helga G. Pataki…" she mutters half-heartedly, hoping to lighten his spirits, if only for a second, "and if there's one thing I know, it's that your dorky smiles are worth everything. They would have known that. Probably did know it, for the short time you were together."

He doesn't smile, the tears don't stop. But his mouth does twitch, and his deadened eyes leave the two graves for the first time in what feels like days to meet hers earnestly. It's enough for her. And as his chapped lips move to form the words, "Thank you," she hugs him to her. He clings to her for another long period of time, the umbrella and her jacket being the only things protecting them from the rain, before she manages to drag him home with her and makes him some hot chocolate. When he wakes up the next morning, wrapped up in a blanket and her sleeping, warm arms, he feels for the first time in a while that he's truly home. And it is then, then that a ghost of a smile passes over his lips, and the healing begins. Wounds mending themselves in the only way they know how. With time and a caring hand.

Meanwhile the rain pours lightly over the grave stones of Miles and Stella Shortman, cleansing them of impurities and dirt, as the sun peeks it's rays through the billows of soft, gray clouds. The numerous colorful wildflowers surrounding the stones rejoice.

And Arnold smiles in his sleep, an invisible wind caressing his cornflower hair.

* * *

**A/N:** AHHHH I CANNOT WRITE ANGST RIGHT. IT ALWAYS HAS TO END HOPEFUL. I CANNOT HELP IT. *Shakes fist to sky* CURSE YOU, OPTIMISM, AND YOUR D*MN DIRTY TEMPTATIONS.

Not that this is a bad thing. XD I've never written dead Miles or Stella before… mainly 'cause I think it's totally out of canon. XP So… AU, I supposey wosey? I guess this was more to show Arnold's pain on the matter. He ain't all sunshine and smiles, loves. Let's get real. This is why we love him.

Plus it was raining yesterday. *Shrugs* My first thought when I heard it pounding outside was, "I WANT TO SIT OUTSIDE IN THE RAIN AND SOAK INTO THE EARTH, EVAPORATE INTO THE ATMOSPHERE, AND RAIN ON DUMB PEOPLE." It is my dream. That and raining on a cat convention. But I digress. I wanted to write about the passionate emotion known as sorrow and it's comforts. SoRrYs ExTeNdEd. BUT I AIN'T QUITTING. I need to explore my abilities in writing these things. MoRe SoRrYs ExTeNdEd.

_**REVIEW!**_


	35. When I Die

**Warning: Not intended for weenies or oversensitive little chillren that wet beds and stuff. Leave now or I kill you. I refuse to pay for therapy. I can barely afford my own.  
**

* * *

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**When I Die**

When I die please let it be grand

Let oceans soak in desserts sand

Let mountains drown beneath the waves

The most monstrous beasts howl in their caves

Let the sky go gray as ash

The winds whip harder than whipping's lash

Let history turn future violent and mad

Let all the world's love pleasure the sad

Oh when I die, please let it be quick

Let lightning flash and thunder sick

Let rain beat harder than life ever had

Heavenly tears wash me of all things bad

Let the grass beneath brave feet shudder

And kiss the graves of my father and mother

Let my last sight be of the blackening chaos

Death whispering memories of happiness lost

When I die, don't let it leave scars

But a reflection of life's beautiful horrors

When I stand let it not be alone

Let true love shed me of all but bone

Let my soul be seen by the world

My body mangled, cold and curled

Let lightning strike me stiff in my spot

Illuminate skin in the blinding hot

When my final words shoot from burning throat

Let them simply be, "My life brought hope."

* * *

**A/N: **Oh, aren't I just a pill? *Scrunches up nose* So much mention of death lately. But this is really more of a hardcore death, and I freaking _lurv_ it. *AC/DC singing screech* I WANNA DIE BY LIGHTNING *Electric guitar solo that goes on for twenty minutes*

What say this is a poem Arnold writes in his old age? Or it's a poem Helga wrote about how Arnold might want to die? I don't know, we all know I'm just making this crap up. It's an excuse to just post the stupid poem. But no matter, it still works. After all, Arnold came into this world during intense weather and ended it, it's only appropriate he should leave at the hand of insane weather and junk. Lol, yeah, weather's all like, "YO, mofo, how dare you try to silence ME? I'M FREAKING MOTHER NATURE, B*TCH. WHO'S LAUGHIN' NOW?" Yep. That's right. That's how it happened. That's the story.

DON'T QUESTION ME, JUST GO WITH IT.

**_REVIEW!_**


	36. Helga's Nerve

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Helga's Nerve**

After his little mishap with Helga on top of FTi, something in Arnold changed. Not personality wise, but emotionally. Oh yes. Something inside of him had been growing, and it had come to the point he could no longer ignore it.

He was _ticked._

He'd never been so furious with her in his entire life. Not for the spitballs, or tripping, or hair pulling, or lies or deceit or threats, or any of her foolproof 'evil schemes,' or even just for her general pig-headed, hateful nature.

No, he was ticked because of FTi. He was ticked because of how she'd looked at him, the words she'd spoken, the first time he'd ever seen absolute clarity and unabashed truthfulness in her eyes—he'd more than happily pretended it had never happened for her sake (and his own, though he tried to pretend otherwise), but as the time passed and he had more time to think about it, the more his ire grew.

How _dare_ she be in love with him for six years? How _dare_ she look at him with lovestruck abandon? How _dare_ she cling to him like that and practically fall to her knees in worship of him? And most of all, how _dare_ her entire reason for tormenting him mercilessly for the last six years, and hiding herself and screaming and throwing fit after countless fit, be because she _loved_ him? What… the heck…? _The nerve was inconceivable_.

The first sparks of his fury had began on April Fool's Day, when she'd suddenly decided, "Oh, I know I just confessed my undying, obsessive love for you and tried to practically suck your lips off your face, but now I'm going to play a bunch of pranks on you and take full advantage of your kindness in not calling me out on it. Besides, you like pies and puddings, right? Enjoy having them smashed in your face and pants!" The joke had been on her though. Now that he knew she loved him, tricking her was almost sinfully easy. And after her once again having the nerve to try to _publicly humiliate him_, he figured she more than deserved having him dip her, spin her, and smirk in her face as she spazzed out in his arms. That'd show her for messing with her '_darling_.'

It only got worse after that. He'd been wringing his hands on his way back home, sopping wet and shivering, with his mind racing with _where the heck_ she got off thinking she could still just _do_ these kinds of things now. He may have let her off the hook and written her moment of weakness off for the common good of their psyches, but that did not just automatically change the fact that she _mauled him on a building_. You didn't just throw that out the window as if it were a piece of chewed gum. You could pretend, sure, try to shove it out of your mind for a while, but it was still _there_, and it had to be dealt with gently. The fact she could so easily forget and act as if nothing happened only infuriated him further. Did that entire thing mean nothing to her? He was starting to realize just how disturbingly good an actress she truly was. And the new doors of possibility that opened in regards to his entire life with her made him want to rip his hair out and claw at his eyeballs. Women were the most impossible creatures on the face of the planet, yes. He knew that, but Helga? She played on an entirely different level of _impossible_. So high up in the clouds with her nonsense and manipulations that he couldn't even _begin_ to grasp any shred of her logic.

_Arnold hated when things weren't logical_.

And that was why he'd now found himself storming through the halls, actually pushing kids out of his way just so he could slam her locker door shut, look straight into her shocked and started blue eyes with his boiling pools of livid green, and grab her around her shoulders only to dip her back and smash his lips into hers.

His kiss was hard and angry, loathing and demanding, with his arms melded around her shoulders to ensure she wasn't going _anywhere_. But by the way she was completely slack and limp in his arms now, he doubted she'd be able to run even if she wanted, though he wasn't taking any chances. So he kissed her long and brutally, pouring out all his frustration, fury, and (he realized) love.

His grip on her changed slightly then; only the slightest change that lasted but a second, but Helga felt it all the same—his arms loosened around her slightly, as if he were suddenly aware of how breakable she was despite any tough girl façade, and he tilted his head in their kiss before pulling his lips away from hers with an almost violent _smack_.

It was only then the sounds of gasps and shocked chatter reached their ears, but Arnold couldn't care less and Helga was still too shocked to even remember oxygen existed, let alone other people (_it completely slipped her mind that voices and human beings were related_).

Arnold growled then, though it was more half-hearted now that his pulse was racing so differently like it was, "You doodled a monkey on my desk in permanent ink with an arrow pointing to it saying 'Arnold.' Principal Wartz is going to _kill_ you."

Somehow, someway, despite his violent show of affection and possessive hold, Helga managed a weak smirk (infuriating). "Yeah, but you're going to take the blame for me. You're too nice not to."

And he knew she was right.

_Cheese and crackers_. She made him want to rip his hair out, scream, shout, and stamp his feet until the entire universe shook. _The inconceivable nerve of this woman_…

He slammed his mouth to hers again.

* * *

**A/N:** OMG OMG OMG

Can I get a "Squea squea"? *Holds ear out to crowd* I CAN'T HEAR YOU! CAN I GET A "SQUEA SQUEA"?

I wanna be hearin' those squeas now. AGGRESSIVE ARNOLD FTW!

*Sputters* INCONCEIVABLE!

**REVIEW!**


	37. Spoiled Pastrami

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Spoiled Pastrami**

"You have offended me in ways that are _beyond_ the comprehension of your puny mind," Phil said lowly, eyes cut and brows furrowed dangerously. "You have brought dishonor on my entire family with your thoughtless display, and brought forth only the deepest of pains on my person. And for that, heathen, you must be punished. _Prepare to die_!"

And with these words, the small pink plastic sword was plunged into the sandwich. Once, twice, thrice—his hand became erratic as he furiously stabbed at it, throat growling in outrage, "Stupid pastrami!"

Helga walked past with a load of laundry, throwing to him casually, "Phil, don't play with your food."

Phil huffed, sticking the little plastic sword in one last time and pushing the spoiled meat away from himself. "As if it can even be called that. I'll be washing my mouth out for weeks."

* * *

**A/N:** From my fic "Life with the Shortmans," Phillip, ladies and gentlemen. *Facepalm*

**_REVIEW!_**


	38. Water

**Disclaimer: **Keep in mind that this is mine. I own this. Don't get any ideas. Or I'll hunt you down and force you to eat lima beans. And if you're sick and like those, then I'll force you to eat hummus instead. And if you're demented and like that too... you won't like it the way I make it. Trust me.

* * *

**Water.**

Hot, cold, pure, salty, transparent, green

Yet water is water all the same

It may go hot

It may float to the sky

It may get you wet tomorrow

But it's still water

No matter where it goes

It may go cold

It may get hard

It may try to steal your tongue

But it melts, and it's still water

No matter it's form

Water keeps the world alive

It's the central point of all

Nobody thinks about it

Because it's always there

Flowing and pelting and gushing

Bringing life to all it touches

Or death

It may be as soft as snow

It may be as sharp as ice

It may come in hail and smash your window

Or it may even save your life

In the ocean, it will make you thirst

The salt will drive you mad

But it's still water, it's still there

Water will always be water

And it will always remain

My love for you is like water, my love

It may scald or it may freeze

I may make your teeth chatter

Or your lips scream for me

I may hurt your pride

Or I may lift you up

I may bring life

I may bring death

I may make you grin

I may make you cry

More water

More love

I still love you

Don't take me for granted

Just because I'm always here

Water doesn't have a choice

And neither do I

I love you

You're as perfect as the earth is green

And I'm as unpredictable as the weather

But please, don't ever deny

No matter what form my love takes

No matter how hard it may be to see

I promise my love is like water

And it will always be in me

Stupid football head.

* * *

**A/N: **Yeah. Just go ahead and categorize this crap under "Crud SuprSingr Comes Up With When She's Half Asleep And In The Bathroom Listening To Water Drip." I literally just woke up. Blarrrrggggghhhhhh.

I need sustenance. I'll post something less poo-ish at a later date.

But before I go, I have a new poll up on my profile. Only look if you read "Life with the Shortmans," though (over a hundred reviews *Screams to death*). And that's all.

_**REVIEW!**_


	39. Word Play

**Disclaimer: **The characters of Zachary Shortman, AxH's spawn, and Jaron Johanssen, GxP's spawn, are mine. Pamella belongs to **Panfla **and myself. HA! belongs to neither of us, though. D:

* * *

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**Word Play  
**

"Hey, dude?"

Zack looked up from his raisin bran in orange juice to his best friend, still chewing as he replied, "Yeah?"

Jaron, boredly tapping his pencil on the table top where his Math sheet lay long finished, looked up at him inquisitively and asked, "Why are women called women?"

Zack stopped his chewing at that, half of his brow raising for a moment as he peered up in contemplation, before he smiled and answered with wide gesticulation and colorful expressions, "Because when Adam first saw Eve, the first words out of his mouth were, 'Whoa man…' and God pointed his finger straight down at him and said thunderously, 'That!'" Shrugging his plaid shoulders up, Zack went back to his cereal without another thought, absently concluding, "So therefore, woman." Pausing a moment, he seemed to consider, before he added offhandedly, "It's also what he said when woman had her first time of the month."

Jaron's pencil had paused at his explanation, and a few seconds passed between the two best friends, the only sound in the room being Zack's crunching, before Jaron nodded his head in true fascination and replied, "Sounds legit."

Pam looked up at the two from her homework, dead-eyed, and flatly stated, "You two are both serious sh—"

"Whoa man!" both Jaron and Zack burst, flying away from her with their fingers together in crosses.

* * *

**A/N: **I don't know what goes on in my head half of the time, I swear.

_**REVIEW!**_


	40. Stay

**A/N: **There's this thing on Tumblr called "Imagine your OTP" and it just comes up with a bunch of situations for characters to be in and stuff, and sometimes people take them kinda as prompts and write shiz for 'em.**  
**

I decided to play for once and wrote this in like five minutes. Not my best work, but, like, IT'S CUTE, RIGHT? SORTA?!

Whatever, just read.

**Disclaimer: **"HEY ARNOLD!" ain't mine, duds. And no, that was not a typo.

* * *

**Dabbling in Drabbles  
**

**Stay**

* * *

Helga felt her heart thudding in her chest, sitting next to her beloved after their San Lorenzo adventure only a week before.

He'd been so busy with his parents since they'd gotten back, and she'd sunk into the background to watch him in the shadows she knew so well as he laughed and smiled with them, at peace in a way she'd never seen him before. She hadn't had the heart to break up their touching, family reunion so she'd kept herself away for as long as she could, but soon enough Arnold had found her, hiding beside his stoop one morning in the trash can when he came outside. He'd smiled a strange smile at her after lifting the lid, one that nearly made her heart explode as he wordlessly grabbed her hand and helped her out. After a moment of awkwardness he'd asked her, almost humorously, "Helga… what are you doing?"

And she'd answered honestly, because what use was there for lies anymore? She'd said, hands clasped tight behind her back and eyes on the ground, "I didn't want to bug you. Not when you were so happy. I'd just ruin it."

He'd looked almost on the verge of tears at that, eyes wide and smile trembling before he'd asked her to take a walk with him through the park.

And now here they sat, hands resting tensely beside each other on the bench as they stared ahead. There was so much to say, and yet nothing to say at all after all they'd been through together, and neither knew how to break this awkward dam so the words could flow properly. She wondered if his neck scratched as much as hers did, or his very _soul_ shuddered as hers did from just being in his presence like this, with her heart laying between them and him gladly accepting it. Every cell in her brain was screaming and battling against each other, and Helga glanced anxiously down at their hands just a second before darting her eyes away again. She swallowed. She couldn't do this.

Then her heart jumped in her throat and she squeaked as a warm hand suddenly clasped around her own, holding just tight enough to say, 'Stay,' and suddenly her face felt like it was going to explode.

Arnold just kept his eyes ahead, that shaky smile taking reign over his face once more and cheeks just as inflamed as hers. Only this time the same smile took over Helga's face as well, and they sat there on that bench for the next eternity or so, smiling and staring straight ahead.

* * *

**A/N:** _"Imagine your OTP sitting beside each other at the park on their first date. They are nervous, and keep looking forward, saying nothing. Their hands are besides each other, when one of them gains the courage, and slowly curls their hand around the others hand. They keep looking forward, but they are both blushing."_

**_REVIEW!_**


	41. First Date

**A/N: **Hey, look, file-clearing!

Yeah, I was looking for something for LwtS and have been coming across a bunch of old junk. Apparently I wrote this two years ago, while listening to "Yellow" by Coldplay, wearing a yellow jacket, and having yellow hair... *Takes off reading spectacles* That's what the forty-million year old A/N attached to this said anyway. I was trying to be funny at the time but I don't get it.

As for this, well, I've just always wanted to write a believable first date fic for AxH, but I hate this now. Like, really hate it. It's OOC, it's poorly written, it's bla. There's always someone out there who seems to appreciate the things I despise, tho, so here. Enjoy the painful and unfinished whatever that this is.

And yes, it is unedited. And again, two years old. Fascinating...

* * *

**Dabbling in Drabbles**

**First Date**

* * *

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._

Arnold just continued to smile as he stared down at his watch, before folding his hands neatly in front of himself again.

She'd be here.

He knew she would be. She wouldn't miss this for the world. She loved him, he reminded himself. She put herself through a lot of pain just to prove it to him, and he believed her with all his heart. She would be here.

He looked down at his watch again, heartbeat quickening.

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._

Any minute now…

Thirty seconds passed.

"Oh, man, she's not coming, is she?" Arnold muttered in terror, sinking down in his chair.

Maybe the entire thing had been a set up. Just some big, elaborate prank in order to really humiliate him, destroy him, once and for all. After all, what better a way to get back at someone for being born than crushing their heart? But she would never do that… right?

Just then she burst through the doors, her face red from running, and her chest heaving. Arnold sat up in his seat immediately, alarmed. She stumbled over to their table and nearly fell into the booth across from him, her eyes wide and her smile nervous.

"S-Sorry I'm late," she practically wheezed. Seeing his stare, she blushed and reached up to fix her hair quick. She'd been going to have it down for the evening, but she couldn't decide whether that was a good idea or not. After all, she knew Arnold liked it down, but _she_ didn't like it down, but then again he did, but then again she didn't want to put TOO much effort into tonight lest he think she was even more of a nutcase than he already did, but then again tonight WAS special, but… She'd compromised and put it in a braid with some tendrils framing her face and her slight bangs combed out. Which had proved to be a wise decision, because with all that running, her hair surely would have gotten very tangled and messy. But to her surprise as she reached up to fix her hair, it was still very well in place. So, she managed to say this time, still a bit breathy, "W-What are you staring at, geekbait?"

He paid no mind to her insult and blinked, settling back down into his seat. She'd come. She was here. She really DID love him and he wasn't out of his mind. Without realizing, his mouth had gone into an all out grin, and he responded in a too-happy tone, "Nothing, Helga. I'm just glad you're here."

She flushed instantly and a nervous laugh broke at her lips, making her wince. "O-Oh, well…" crap, even her voice was high-pitched, "y-yeah, well… Of course I'm here, Football Head! Why wouldn't I be?" She laughed again, despite herself. '_Criminy, you imbecilic basketcase, you're going down! REAR UP, REAR __UP__!_'

Arnold's eyes went half-lidded, again without his realizing, and his smile softened. "You're right. Why wouldn't you be?" He relaxed, and rested his head in his hand on the table. "So any particular reason you were late?"

Helga frowned. She should have known he'd ask that, but still… Ah, well, what could one lie hurt? "Oh, no reason. Just missed the bus, so I ended up having to run here, and, well, you know." She shrugged nonchalantly and reached for a menu, browsing casually through it.

Arnold smiled densely, taking the bait. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

Of course, why else after _seven years_ would Helga be late for her first date with the love of her life?

* * *

"NO, I CAN'T GO! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! HE'LL FIGURE OUT I'M A LUNATIC AND DUMP ME ON THE SPOT! I CAN'T DO IT!" Helga screamed, as Phoebe and Olga tried to pull her from the bedpost.

"Baby sister, you have to go!" Olga grunted, pulling at her legs. "This could be your only opportunity!"

"I really must concur, Helga. As your best friend, I'm telling you, you simply MUST go!" Phoebe added in a soft grunt of her own, also pulling at her legs.

Helga held fast to her bed, screaming back at them, "NO, IT'S SIMPLY TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE! I'll mess it up, say something dreadfully wrong, make him hate me! HE'LL FIGURE OUT HE'S MAKING A MISTAKE, I KNOW HE WILL! I JUST KNOW HE WILL!" She was practically crying now, her voice thick with emotion.

Suddenly, Phoebe threw down Helga's legs, leaving Olga to confusedly let go as well without thinking. Helga fell straight down onto the floor with an "Oof!" and suddenly felt herself being pulled up by her collar. Phoebe flipped her over so she was sitting on the floor and stood over her, and despite her small, petite stature, she towered over Helga like Godzilla. And for once in Helga's life, she felt truly small as she stared wide-eyed into the determined, furious face of her best friend. "Now you listen here, and you listen GOOD, Helga!" Phoebe yelled, pointing a finger into Helga's shocked face. "You have been madly in love with this boy for seven years now! You've built shrines, written poetry, and crazily stalked him for all of that time, saved the neighborhood for him, done everything in your power to help him save his parents and nearly DIED a few times for him, and now that he has finally acknowledged you and admitted he cares for you too, YOU'RE GOING TO JUST THROW IN THE TOWEL?! I am sorry, Helga, but I simply can't let you do that! I will drag you over to Slausens MYSELF and PUSH you through those doors if I have to! YOU. ARE. GOING. ON. THIS. DATE! Got it?!" she shouted, her eyes aflame.

Helga just stared, jaw-dropped, only managing to make her head nod weakly.

And just like that, it was over, and Phoebe was smiling (almost smirking) contently with her hands on her hips. "Good."

Olga just blinked, just as flabbergasted as her sister, before it started to sink in what exactly had just taken place, and she grinned quick, clapping her hands in delight. "Oh, yay! So the makeover is back on! I'll get my make up bag!" She rushed out of the room excitedly, giggling.

And Helga just sat on the floor, brain still trying to catch up with all the insanity that was going on. But she knew one thing for sure at this moment… She was going on this date. Whether she felt sick to her stomach or not…


End file.
